Mercenaries of Galm: Hounds of War
by Karaya 1
Summary: [Part I] The legend of The Demon Lord has loomed large over the world, even years past the end of the Belkan War. No one knew who the ace really was, and where he came from. This is the Demon's attempt to set the record straight. This is a story of conflict, friendship, strength, and courage. This is the story of Galm, the real hounds of war. [Slight AU]
1. Chapter 1

**AN/: Guten Tag, and greetings! Welcome to Mercenaries of Galm: Hounds of War. This, of course, is my first story, so please forgive me for any missed mistakes or errors. I would appreciate reviews and any other things you would like to send my way. I need all the help I can get. And guess what? I don't own Ace Combat or anything as such. Anyways, let's get on with it! Enjoy.**

**EDIT: I've changed the rating from this story from M to T, mainly because the added stuff I could do was actually harming the story. So, if you've read this before, the chapters have been edited for language and some of the more graphic things.**

**QUICK NOTE, PLEASE READ!: I am deviating from the set dialogue of the game since you know, Cipher can TALK. So don't be surprised when you see this. **

Prologue: If you listen, If you read, You will learn.

My story is one that has never been revealed. No one truly knows the man behind the legend of The Demon Lord. No one knows who Cipher really was. Except me, I guess. It starts simple enough, being a farm boy born Erich Völler in 1974. I was raised in the countryside of Southern Belka, particularly in the region of Ustio. If you saw me, you'd know where I'm from immediately. Buzzed blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a 5 foot 11 inch stature, characteristic of the Aryan Belkans and Ustians.

I grew up with a love for the sky. Especially from listening to my father talk about his exploits in Osean Continental War in the forties, where he flew a Me 109G in the Belkan Air Force. Although I grew up in the clouds, my father never wanted me to go there. He always insisted I stay on the ground and go to college to be an engineer. But for me, It never could last. In my teens, I flew gliders with a few friends of mine at an old Belkan airfield nearby. It gave me a chance to touch the heavens that before, I only could dream about. It truly changed my life forever.

When I turned 18 in 1992, I rejected a scholarship to go to the University of Oured, and enlisted as a mercenary fighter pilot. My father raged at me for a good hour when I told him what I was doing. He said I was going to throw away my life for something that had no real value, and I was going to be scarred forever. I loved my father, and It was terribly hard for me to turn my back and leave home with him in this state.

But I did, with tears streaming down my face. But I had done what I wanted, what I knew would make my happy, and satisfy the everlasting need of mine to fly higher and faster than ever. In training, I flew with Belkans, Oseans, Yuktobanians, Emmerians, Estovakians, Eruseans, Useans, you name it. I toured all over the world for my training, and I loved every minute of it. It was during this time I was given the nickname the few people close to me knew me by. Cipher. It was given to me by an Yuktobanian pilot named Viktor Andrianov, who said it would be hell for anyone flying against me, because it would be like breaking a complex cipher, since I was near impossible to read.

I took the nickname to heart as I continue to fly and to impress around the globe, and finally take it to the grandest stage on the planet. The Belkan War had begun on March 25, 1995. I had accepted an offer from the Ustian Air Force to fly in their newly reformed, mercenary-only, 6th Air Division. I was quickly assigned and deployed to the 66th Air Force Unit.

And it was on April 2nd, 1995, that the story of the Hell Hounds begins, where mine and another intertwines. This is the story of Galm.

* * *

Ch. 1: A Last Gasp For Breath

I was cruising in my F-15C at 20,000 feet over the mountains of Valais AFB, ready to get some action. I was motionless in the cockpit of the Eagle, and I was quietly confident that I could take whatever came at me.

"Alright, good to see everyone got up," Central Command said over the radio, "The Belkan Bombers are now entering the area of engagement, begin interception."

"Roger," I responded.

"Cipher, you are now in command of the Galm team as Galm 1. Pixy, you're now Galm 2."

"Copy," the pilot of another Eagle with a single red wing replied, "You better have the money waiting for us after this."

"That's only if you two get back alive," Central Command responded.

"Yeah, Yeah, just make sure it's ready when we get back."

The other F-15 formed up on my right wing as I moved to the lead position.

"You ready to go, Cipher?" Pixy asked.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"I've heard about you," The mysterious pilot said, "And I'm anxious to see what you can do. Take us away, flight leader."

We banked to the left and made a long swooping turn to head off the formation consisting of 6 B-52Gs, 6 BM-335s, and a mixed fighter escort. We were going to have our hands full.

I adjusted the throttle to three-quarters thrust, and armed my missiles. I was going to make a high-to-low cutting pass at the first four bombers in the formation.

"Pixy, I'm going to make a cut at the lead bombers, keep them off my tail would ya?"

"Sure thing Cipher, I'll watch your back."

I nosed the Eagle down from 20,000 feet and began my dive, increasing the thrust again. The Eagle began to shake as I blasted past Mach 1, and I readied my finger of the missile fire button on my joystick. The bombers began to zoom in towards me, no longer specks, but monsters in the sky. I switched to my multi-lock AMRAAMs or Slammers and let loose a volley at about 3000 feet from the bombers. I quickly zoomed through the middle of the formation as the missiles impacted.

"That's four confirmed kills for Galm 1, good shooting Cipher!" Pixy called, "I'm drawing the escorts keep going!"

"Roger, continuing attack, AWACS update the scope, over."

"This is AWACS Eagle Eye, high copy, radar has been updated."

I looked down at my radar screen as the wrecks were now out of the picture as the next bomber formation came into view. But, I didn't have time to attack as the Mig-21 escorts weren't too happy I had wiped out almost half their attack strength in a single pass. The were at my one o'clock high and diving fast.

"Pixy, pick up the slack, escorts are on me. Go for the bombers, over," I hailed on the radio.

"I copy, Cipher."

I gunned the engines on afterburner as I rose to face the Fishbeds. I placed myself on course for a head on collision with the lead as I depressed the trigger for my cannon. The twenty millimeter beast roared to life as I scattered his wingmen, but the lead remained motionless as I closed in on him, the cannon still roaring. Seconds later the Mig exploded into a plume of flame and steel, and I stormed through the cloud of fire.

I made and Immelmann turn as I chased down his number two. He was running scared and I calmly sat behind his tail, not tiring myself out chasing easy prey. I followed easily as he was jerking and wildly flailing around. I fired a Slammer and he was disabled. But, I didn't let that fly as I finished him off with a sidewinder for good measure. I heard the Belkans cry foul at that, but I ignored their outburst. I Split-S'ed and went after the last Mig-21 who was trying to climb back up to make another pass at me. I quickly climbed and pulled lead on him as my cannon's aiming reticule came up on the HUD. I put it about 4 inches in front and gave a three second burst. It had an immediate effect as the right wing shredded off, and the Fishbed spiraled out of control. I never saw a chute.

"Pixy, one wing of escorts are down. How's the bomber attack coming?"

"Good, some of the other wings have lent a hand and we're almost done. The escorts are bugging us, can you give us a hand and swat the flies?"

"Roger, I'm inbound."

I climbed again up to 25,000 feet with the sun to my back. I pulled back to about eighty percent thrust as I made my way over to the the bombers. Pixy was right, It was almost mopped up, but I could see the smoke trails from the enemy escorts' missiles.

"Cavalry's incoming," I called.

I hit my afterburners as I rolled over and made a long-winded Split-S to get behind the formation, and I immediately let off Slammers at the five fighters, but these were Mig-29's and were not going to go down as easy. I managed to get one of the Swallows, but the others quickly broke their attack and came after me.

I was unfazed as my missile alert was going off, quickly reacting by speeding up right towards them. I let loose both of my sidewinders, and as soon as I passed them, I stamped on my air-brake and turned around to chase after them. In my first pass I had mortally damaged two of them, so I finished them off with my gun. But the other two seemed different. They had matching light-grey camouflage with red tail-planes. Aces, no doubt.

They quickly put me on the back foot, with one forcing me into a rolling scissors. I fired bursts of cannon fire as we weaved back and forth past each other. His counterpart then proceeded to try and attack from up top. I responded by breaking the maneuver and turning on him, but the first one again was right on my tail. I continued to drive at the high rider, while the other Swallow riddled my Eagle with cannon-fire from behind. I then hit my afterburners and pulled an Immelmann turn and forced the two Mig-29's to scatter into each other. I managed to get the first one right out of the turn, and gave chase to the last one. He climbed up into the sun in an attempt to blind me, but it failed. I fired a Slammer and his plane was gone in a flash.

"Give me a sit-rep, Eagle Eye," I called.

"All aircraft have been destroyed. Good work Galm Team."

"Roger, Pixy form up," I said as I leveled my Eagle at 15,000 feet.

The white solo red winged Eagle soared up to meet my grey double-blue winged Eagle as we slowly made our way back to base.

"Hey Cipher, I think you and me are going to get along just fine. Buddy."

I looked over to him in his Eagle and gave him a thumbs-up, "Glad to hear it, Pixy."

"Don't mention it. Now let's get our money."

I laughed, "You read my mind!"

We landed back at Valais AFB shortly afterwards, and I quickly hopped out of my Eagle to meet my new wingman. He had short cut, but messy brown hair, and cold brown eyes. He wore an old-fashioned leatherneck jacket like the one I was wearing. He had a small grin on his face as I came up to him.

"You're a bit of a youngster aren't you, buddy?" he said as he held out his hand.

"Yeah," I said as I shook it, "Doesn't mean I can't fight."

"I didn't mean that," he said with a chuckle, "Just didn't expect it."

"Front seldom tells the truth. To know the occupants of a house, always look in the backyard."

Pixy shook his head and he wore the same grin, "Where'd you learn that?"

"Here and there," I said returning a sheepish smile, "You learn a few things traveling the world as a fighter pilot, and as a person."

"Wise words," He said as he looked back up to the blue skies, "I'm Larry Foulke by the way."

"I'm Erich Völler," I responded looking over in the direction of GHQ, "Should we go get our money and cash out?"

"You bet! Pay day is always a good day!"

We sprinted off to GHQ to pick up the day's check.

Someone has to put the food on the table.

* * *

**Glossary:**

**"Front seldom tells the truth. To know the occupants of a house, always look in the backyard."-This is a modified version of a quote from one of the Charlie Chan movies of the 30's and 40's. If you've never seen or heard of these movies, plenty of them are on YouTube for your personal enjoyment. **

**Immelmann turn- (Of course some of you may already know what this is.) A plane climbs in a half-circle and rolls over when the maneuver is completed. Named after WWI German Fighter Ace Max Immelmann, considered to be the first ace ever. The Pour Le Merite(Germany's(Or Prussia's) highest award during WWI), was nicknamed the Blue Max in his honor after his death in 1916.**

**Split-S: Same as an Immelmann turn but is descending in nature, and the roll is done first(due to taking Positive-G's which you won't pass out from, compared to Negative-G's.)**

**Andrianov- Nod to Nikolai Andrianov, the olympic Russian gymnast, who stands third all-time in cumulative Olympic medals with 15. **

**Sit-rep: Short-hand for Situation report.**

**GHQ: General Headquaters**


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2 Little Steps

-Two weeks later: April 15, 1995 approx. 1100 hrs.-

Operation Roselein. The first drive back against Belka. Pixy and I were tasked to escort a squadron of F-16XL's to the major supply line at Route 171 in the Sapin countryside of Arlon. It was only our second mission as the Galm Team, but I was again confident we would be able to make the operation work. It was a clear, pretty day in the Sapin farmland. It reminded a lot of the green hills at home at my farm in Ustio.

I could feel the new stitching in the back of my jacket as I readied myself in my ejector seat. I now wore the emblem of the Galm Team, the hellhound, red and bound in chains, waiting for an unwary soul to walk unsuspectedly into its grasp. I shook my head as I thought about it.

Hounds, sure, I thought, But Hellhounds? I don't know.

I was cruising along at 21,000 feet up with Pixy behind me off my left wing. The delta wing XL's were in front of us, six of them, making up the 37th Ground Attack Unit, Halo squadron. They were all mercenaries like us, and were a pretty good group. Their flight lead, a 28 year old Osean named James "Tiger" Cho, was a ground attack specialist, and Pixy and I were rather glad he was going to be taking the flak, literally. Even so, they armed us with UGB's, just in case something did go wrong with Halo's mission directive.

"Hey Tiger, targets are coming up, we got your six, whenever you all are ready." I called to the Halo leader.

"Roger Galm 1, we'll stir the hornets up a little. Halo, let's roll!"

We watched from up high as the modified Falcons dove for the deck armed to the teeth with Mavericks and Bomblet Dispensers. With all that ordnance they might as well could level Dinsmark. As they moved in on the first target area near one of the bridges over the Aare river, the Mavericks sprang out from the XL's and destroyed all of the defenses in less than 10 seconds. I had to give it to them, Halo was damn good at ground attack.

"First target area clear," Eagle Eye barked, "Move onto the next area Halo."

"Roger AWACS, proceeding towards second target area," Tiger replied.

"Galm, I'm picking up multiple signatures coming from the West heading for Halo. Intercept immediately."

"Roger Double E, we're moving," I replied as I flipped on the little switch for arming the missiles, "Pixy we are green, I'm picking up two squadrons. I'll take front wing, you take the rear."

"Roger Cipher, let's get 'em."

We both hit the burners to catch the fast-movers. As we closed in onto the formations in the clear blue sky, the Belkan fighters finally came into view. I had the luck of picking on four F-16C's.

They were flying in a finger-four formation, and moving from left-to-right in front of me to intercept Halo's flight. I quickly pulled lead on the number four plane and gave a good 5 second burst on him. I managed to tear up his tail as I pulled in behind the formation, and It was an easy sidewinder lock and dust. The other three Falcons quickly scattered in front of me, so I chose to go after the flight lead which had gone high and pulled an Immelmann turn to try and get behind me.

I countered immediately pulling a tight loop to come back and meet the lead's guns. As soon as he realized I was facing him, he rolled over and dove for the deck. I did a Spilt-S and went after him. He was weaving about left and right trying to shake off my lock, but I just sat there and let the bastard tire himself out, all the while shaking off fire from the other two Falcons. I closed in on him and let my cannon do the talking as the fighter split in half, spilling oil and gas all around the damaged airframe. The other two Falcons tried to fire their AMRAAM's at me, but I climbed back up and faced them, forcing their dispersion to my left and right.

"Tiger from Halo flight here, now prepping for run on second target area. We're still clear. Keep it up Galm."

Neither Pixy or I had time to reply, as he was also in a fight of his own with a squadron of Phantoms who were giving him just as hard a time.

I went after the Falcon that dove low to my right, and kept the power on to trail him as best I could. He pulled into a loop that I followed and as I came out, the other Falcon was rushing towards me, cannon blazing.

"Oh shit!" I yelled as I jerked the stick left as I dove for the deck from about 8,000 feet. I was lucky to come out of that unscathed. The first Falcon was still in front of me so I gave chase. I had to close the gap. I used the Eagle's massive engines to close in on him. Although the Falcon has a kick-ass engine, it just couldn't keep up with the two monsters bolted onto my airframe. I closed the distance quickly, and as soon as I entered sidewinder range, I fired and the pilot had little time to react as the missile snaked to the fighter and blasted it to ashes.

The other Falcon was in on my tail again hoping to make a revenge kill, but I climbed up hard as he fired his sidewinder at me. It streaked past my tail as I continued my ascent letting out a sigh of relief. But the chase wasn't over. I had to shake him off. I gunned it for the flight ceiling, barrel rolling all the way to dodge the fire from the Falcon. The plane was shuddering immensely as I continued to climb breaking Mach 1. As I reached 35,000 feet I quickly stalled the Eagle and forced it down to dive back at the Falcon. He had the speed advantage, so I had to attack quick and bolt as soon as I fired. As soon as I hit effective range and had my sidewinder locked, I fired and dove to my right and out of the line of fire. I looked over my left shoulder to see if it had worked. It did. Too much momentum, and he couldn't react at all. Another kill.

I came down and leveled at 10,000 feet over the main road. I hailed Pixy as soon as I could over the radio.

"Pixy, Cipher here, my wing is all down. What's the skinny?"

I got my answer as his Solo Wing Eagle formed up on my right wing.

"Bagged 'em all. Whew!" He said as I could see him lift up his visor and wipe his brow, "These guys are tough, even in Phantoms!."

I laughed, "If they weren't, they wouldn't have gotten this far outside of Belka."

"True," he said snapping his visor back down, "Probably should check on Halo Wing."

"Roger that," I said as I checked the frequency again.

"Tiger, this is Cipher, we've cleared the bandits, how's the running going?"

"Approaching third target area now, no troubles. But there is something you two might be interested in."

What the hell could that be?

"We're listening Tiger."

"There are some storage areas that are known to be used by Belkan forces, but we didn't attack them because they aren't priority targets and they are off the main attack route. Since you have some UGB's you can go after them, and get some extra dough for it. But, they are not required, it isn't critical if they are destroyed or not. It's up to you Galm."

"Roger Tiger, thanks for the heads up."

"Anytime Cipher. We are attacking the third and final area in 30 seconds, Eagle Eye."

"Roger Halo, maintain current course." The AWACS responded.

"What do you think Pixy? Should we take those out?"

"Uh," he said as he paused for a couple of seconds, "It's up to you Cipher. Doesn't really matter to me."

"Roger."

I sat quietly for a few moments, thinking on this. But then I realized, It was extra cash for targets that will hurt us later if we leave them alone.

"Pixy, we are going after them. Arm UGB's and prep for bombing run ASAP. Eagle Eye give us the layout on radar."

"Roger Galm 1, the seven targets are marked on the screen now."

They were bundled up in an area about half a mile to the East of the main road in the center of the combat zone. We headed that way to make our run at them from a low 3,000 feet. We would make quick passes over the area dropping bombs in offset intervals.

"Alright, Pixy move behind me, we'll make three seconds drops on this."

"Roger, ready for mark."

I lined up with the targets, which were closing in on my HUD at my twelve. I readied on the release trigger, and aimed with my targeting reticle on the glass display. After about 5 seconds I was in the sweet spot.

"Pickle, Pickle! Mark!" I yelled.

After three seconds, Pixy dropped his bombs.

"Pickle, Pickle, ordnance released!"

I looked over my shoulder to see the effects of the bombs. Dead on target. The fuel and ammo dumps were alight and burning. Bonus money in the bank.

I checked the scope and it was now completely clear. All I was picking up was Pixy and Halo flight.

"Eagle Eye, scope is clear of all targets according to IFF. Please confirm, over."

"Roger Galm 1, we're checking."

A few seconds passed and I got my answer.

"All targets are confirmed destroyed. Galm Team, Halo Team, Good work, RTB immediately, over."

"Galm 1 copies all."

"Halo Wing, copies," Tiger responded

I slouched back in my seat and laughed. Another day down.

"Seems luck was on your side today, Solo Wing," Eagle Eye spoke happily over the radio.

"Yeah, I've had my fill of going home without wings," he said with a kindhearted chuckle.

"Yo, buddy, still alive?"

"So far." I said giving a thumbs up as the white Eagle formed up on my right wing.

"Good flying today guys," Tiger said as he formed up his unit behind us, "Made the going much easier. It's nice to have a good fighter escort for once in our damn lives."

"Glad to be of service," I responded.

"Let's get back home, Cipher," Pixy said.

"Amen to that."

Little did I realize, home had become a little more crowded while we were out working. The base was now packed with fighters and bombers and was a hive activity compared to the past few weeks. Flights were constantly heading in and out non-stop, and we had to wait about 20 minutes to get on the ground.

As we rolled onto the runway and headed off to our hangar. We were stopped just outside, and a green-camouflaged Humvee stopped over on our left-hand side. A general, 3-Star, got out of the Jeep, and peered over at us. He looked more like an active duty pilot than a general.

This general looked to be in his early 40's and had perfectly cut black hair protruding from under his officer's hat. He wore his CWU with patches from squadrons in the OADF. He wore aviator sunglasses, and his skin was rather tanned compared to the pale skins that live in Valais. He was smoking a cigarette, and had a smile on his face. I quickly unbuckled and hopped out of my Eagle and as soon as I hit the tarmac, I turned and saluted. The General returned, and motioned for me and Pixy to come to him.

"So you are the Galm team, eh?"

"Yes, sir," we both responded at attention. We may be mercs, but we were in their air corps, and we had to follow the rules just like anyone else.

"Well, you both certainly look the part, and from the reports I've read, you fight like real tough sons a' bitches. You boys have hammered those Belkans right back into the dirt, and without your help, we couldn't be standing where we are now."

I had a big shit-eating grin on my face. This general is right up my alley.

"At ease gentlemen," he said allowing us to get out of the uncomfortable pose, " I am General Charles Chennault, commander of the Sixth Air Force. I run the whole mercenary operation around here. The reason I am here today is that I have a job I need you do for me. I'll explain more at GHQ."

We got in the Humvee with Chennault and his driver, and were ferried over to the GHQ over off the right hand side of the runway, alongside the tower. There was a lot traffic on the way. Repair, munitions, and fuel crews were driving all over place.

"Pardon me asking, sir," Pixy said, "What's all this activity about?"

"All in good time, Mr. Foulke."

We stopped outside the main doors of the building and were led in by the General, since mess and the barracks were not in here, and our briefing were given to us in our hangars, we had never been inside GHQ. It was a hotbed of scrambling officers and personnel carrying reports and papers. The old general led us into a briefing room and we sat down. He walked to the front of the room faced us, standing next to the projector board, and took off his glasses. He motioned for his aide, the sergeant who had driven us, to dim the lights as the projector hummed on.

"The reason for me being here today, and the increased activity of the airfield's personnel and squadrons, is this. In five days the Allies are launching Offensive Campaign No. 4101. The Osean Third Naval Fleet will be attempting to break through Belkan defenses towards the Futuro Canal, in our attempt to ready ourselves to liberate the southern countries and in turn Ustio, from Belka's grasp."

"So what do you need us to do?" I asked.

"I need you to be here, Captain Völler," he said pointing to a different area, far to the north of Futuro, on the tactical map behind him.

I saw the area and knew immediately what it was. Pixy did too. B7R. The Round Table. We were going into, definitely, the most dangerous area in the entire theater of combat.

"Uh, sir, why are we going there? The offensive is a good ways from there," I said in confusion.

"You, and your wingman will be there to divert all attention from our advance towards Futuro. We'll be sending you in officially as reconnaissance, but in reality, you'll be there to stir up as much trouble as you possibly can."

We were astonished. Only two missions as a team, and we were going into an area that only the best pilots could thrive, let alone survive.

"I know you may think this is difficult, but I know you can do it. You are the best we have, and were born for this moment. Go show them what Ustio really stands for, Völler."

I smirked at those words. He was giving Pixy and I the chance to prove ourselves in front of the whole world. If we succeeded, we would be on the path to legendary status.

"If you succeed you will also be granted a fifteen percent pay bonus, and a guaranteed upgrade at some point in the future."

I looked over to Pixy, and he was grinning too.

"We're in, General. We'll raise a hurricane, just for you," I said with confidence.

"Good!" he said taking a long puff from his cigarette, "The bastards won't know what hit them until it is too late. Thanks boys, I knew I could count on you. You're dismissed."

We stood up and saluted. We walked out of the room happy and elated. This meant a beer tonight at the base's officer bar, The Jet Wash.

-Later that day, approx. 2100 hrs.-

"So that big-dog Chennault came, huh?" George "Buzzard" Kildare, Halo's number two, asked.

"Yeah, he wants us to do an op into The Round Table," I replied hunched over the bar counter, taking a sip from my beer.

"No shit, Erich?" the Usean redhead asked.

"No shit."

We were getting our free round at the bar for getting our mission logged in the books. Anytime that any pilot on base completed a successful mission or operation, the bar would give you a round for free, no questions asked. They had contacts at GHQ to make sure no one was pissing on them. Pretty much all of guys at The Jet Wash were at some point fighter pilots, so they took good care of us.

Pixy had ran off about half an hour before, claiming he had some calls he needed to make. Tiger never came to these kind of things so, I was alone with the rest of Halo squadron. The five of them were all under the age of 25, which was hard for some people to believe. But, we youngsters had all trained together in the same group. We all got along with each other fine, most of the time. The first one I met was 21-year-old Buzzard, who was my partner in training. He was a bit desperate for fame then, but It didn't ever bother me.

"Throwing you to the wolves pretty quick for a team that's only been together for two missions," said the squadon's number three, fellow Ustian Vicki "Vixen" Ickx, down the bar to the right of Buzzard. She was 20 at this time, same as me. She had regulation cut blonde hair, and pale blue eyes. Her skin was pale, much like everyone else's.

"Well, I guess that's similar to what they did to you and me in training, huh?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," She said downing the last of her beer, "Pretty much the same as throwing us in a mock dogfight with Andrianov, and then giving the bastard live ammunition to shoot at us. Then we had to 'shoot him down'."

"I thought that was just a rumor!" Halo's number four, 19 year old Hector "Lobo" Diaz, burst out in his unmistakable Sapinese accent on Vixen's right, "I can't believe that they actually did that to you!"

"Seems it kept me alive, anyways," I muttered to the black haired, black eyed merc.

Hector hadn't had the best start to the war, being jumped by Belkan Mig-31's the first day of the conflict when he was on patrol. Lobo had been on edge ever since that point, recovering somewhat since my operation went well with them that day.

"At least I'm not as stupid as Rainman," I said loud enough so that the he could hear me sitting where he was next to Lobo down the bar. I heard him growl over in his seat a way's down the bar. But he didn't get up. "Such a worthless piece of shit," I said under my breath.

"Just figured that out, Erich?" Buzzard quipped, almost bursting out laughing.

"No, Buzzard, I didn't," I said calmly.

James "Rainman" Crowley was a vainglorious asshole, and a royal one at that, pun intended. The guy was some aristocrat from Emmeria, and the whole time through training the hot-shot boasted that he could wipe out all of us without breaking a sweat. We never had time after training to hold him to his words, but something else happened. That same patrol Lobo was bounced on and lost his mind, Rainman was with him, and barely did anything to shake the Foxhounds off of Lobo's tail in his XL. Then, we he got to ground, he blamed Lobo for getting them in trouble in the first place. Luckily, the entire Halo squadron and myself stood against his word. Let's just say it didn't end well for him.

The last of the cubs in Halo was sitting to my left. I patted him on his right shoulder to see if he was alright. He was laying his head, on which brown hair sat and green eyes rolled, upon his crossed arms. He stared at the bare wood covered wall in front of him. This one had no name. The only name he knew was his nickname, "Zero".

This guy literally appeared out of thin air at training, lying knocked out on the ground. He had no idea who he was, or where he had come from. No clue. There was no ID on him, which was very strange, since one would have had to present some sort of proof of who he was in order to even get to the training phase. We took him in as a brother-in-arms. He never spoke much, but when he did, everyone listened. We gave him a name that was defined as nothing, but to him, it was everything. Zero was a loyal-to-the-end kind of guy. He didn't let his trust go lightly.

He stirred almost as if in some sort of dream, but his eyes never moved an inch.

"You alright Zero?" I asked with a tone of concern in my voice.

"Yes. I'm alright, Cipher. Didn't mean to scare you," he said moving his head up a few inches.

"Good, keep that head glued on, alright?"

He slowly nodded as he took up his old position staring back at that damn wall. I looked over to Buzzard and Vixen and they just shrugged.

Let it lie, I thought to myself.

There was a TV up in the top left corner of the bar area, and I started to watch the military news that they were broadcasting. There was a big headline at the bottom of the screen.

YF-22 AND YF-23 SET TO SQUARE OFF, TESTING FOR ADVANCED TACTICAL FIGHTER PROGRAM PUSHED UP BY OSEAN JOINT CHIEFS, DUE TO BELKAN CONFLICT.

That was enough to get my attention.

"So, they're finally going to do it, after what, 15 years?" Buzzard said mockingly at the colored light box.

"Thing's going to be a disaster, no matter which one they pick," I replied to Buzzard's words.

"You got that right," Vixen said putting her head in hands.

The TV then showed a picture of the two prototypes side-by-side in a hangar at some airfield in Osea.

"Which one's which?" Lobo asked.

"Smaller one is the 22, the bigger V-tail one is the 23," Zero said not even moving from his place.

"They both kind of look funny," Buzzard responded.

"Yeah," I replied in agreement, "They do. But those bastards wanted advanced shit so they gave it to them." I got up from my seat, and gave my regards to the bartender.

"See you guys later," I said waving goodbye to my compadres in the Halo squadron.

Don't know how they are, but I'm really damn tired, I thought as I headed outside into the dark, and the cold.

* * *

**Deflection shot: Pretty much equates to shooting a bird or clay target with a shotgun. A pilot has to aim ahead of the enemy plane, due to the angle of fire. Modern planes have targeting computers that can do the lead for the pilot, and give them a sweet spot to aim at. For more information on this, check out Hans-Joachim Marseille or the page on Wikipedia devoted to this technique. **

**Chennault: Reference to General Claire Chennault, commander of the American Volunteer Group in China, which fought Japanese Air Forces there before America's entry into WWII. Highly regarded as one of the best commanders ever. Without his leadership, Nationalist China would have fell to Japanese forces.**

**Advanced Tactical Fighter Program: Initiated in the 80's in order to counteract the SU-27 threat posed by the Russians. Northrop and Lockheed were selected to develop their prototypes, the YF-23 and the YF-22 respectively, to compete for a manufacturing contract. The YF-22 won, becoming the F-22 Raptor. Even so, the YF-23 was faster by .2 mach in super-cruise and full afterburn, stealthier by a noticeable margin, and supposedly easier to repair than the Raptor. I'll leave it up to you why it wasn't picked.**


	3. Chapter 3: Not a Knight, but a Demon

Ch.3 Not a Knight, but a Demon

-April 20, 1995. Approx. 0655 hours.-

Over the next couple of days leading up to the operation on the 20th, I didn't really do much, except hang around with the guys in Halo. In the meantime, I worked on painting my flight helmet. I was pretty damn proud of it.

I had painted the helmet completely in metallic black, first. Then from the front, I painted gold streaks at random intervals where the plastic met the top of the visor in its lowered position. The streaks stretched to the back and bottom of the helmet. Then on the right side in cursive I wrote Cipher in gold, and on the left side I wrote, also in cursive and gold, Galm 66.

It took me the whole five days to do it, but like I said, I felt a sense of pride in wearing it now. I knew who I was, and that's the most important thing in being a fighter pilot. If you didn't, some guy who did was going to kick your ass out of the sky before you even knew what happened.

I was sitting on my bunk in the NCO's barracks, staring at the floor, just thinking. I really didn't know what to feel. This was the make or break mission. This was the one that would define the kind of pilot I was. I couldn't believe I was thinking that at only my third operation.

Man, I thought, If it keeps up like this, I might become more than just a mere fighter pilot.

I looked at my watch. 0700. It was time to go. I picked up my helmet, put on my worn-brown leather flight jacket, and went to go meet destiny. I hurried out to our hangar over on the line, and rushed inside of the upside down u-shaped building, out of the cold weather. Pixy was already there checking on his load-out for his Eagle, and was doing a once-over on the bird to make it was to his liking.

As I walked in, I just gave him a wave, and he nodded in reply as he finished his checks. I gave the crew my order for my payload. Sidewinders and Slammers. This was going to be a big air battle. I needed all the air-to-air ordnance I could carry. After we were loaded and done, the crew rolled the planes outside and next to each other on the tarmac. It was here that Halo came to send me off. I went and shook hands with everyone, and even Rainman pulled the rod in his ass out, and wished me luck. Vixen, to my surprise, gave me the biggest send off. She came up to me, and squeezed me with a hug around my neck.

"You watch yourself out there Erich."

I looked her right in the eyes and beamed, "I will. Always have."

"Good," she whispered and she backed off and got in line with the rest of Halo.

Then the ground crews took a picture of the Galm Team in front of the planes with one of those self developing cameras.

I had my helmet on of course, with the visor down, as did Pixy. We stood at ease in front of our Eagles's noses, unsmiling and unfazed, with the hangar in the background.

As soon as the picture was taken by the ground crews, the chief mechanic, Lothar Wolff came up and had me and Pixy sign it.

"This is going on the wall at The Jet Wash. No matter what happens today, you guys have helped us out more than you could imagine, so this is our thanks to you!" the young grease monkey said happily.

"You're welcome," I said warmly, signing the small photograph, "Keep everyone in line while we are gone."

"I'll do my best," he said and stood back and gave a salute.

"Don't worry, Lothar," Pixy said grinning as he saluted, "We'll be back."

We climbed up into our Eagles, and I bolted myself in to my machine. I lowered the canopy and started up the jets. I did one last control check, and then gave the wave-off signal to remove the wheel chocks and the ladder from the plane. I then began to slowly roll forward. I put the Eagle onto ten percent thrust, and headed down the taxi-way to the end of the runway. As soon as I was in position, I hailed the tower over the radio.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting immediate takeoff on runway 9, over."

"Roger, Galm 1, you clear to takeoff, runway 9, over."

"Galm 1 copies all, proceeding."

I pushed the throttle lever steadily into the max as the burners kicked in, emitting a purple hue into the space behind me. I rolled down the runway, and at about 180 miles per hour, I hopped into the air. I then turned off to the right, and decided to make a pass back over everyone at the hangar. I let back on the throttle so I didn't go supersonic over the base. I settled at about 1,000 feet, and headed their way. I could see all of them on the ground waving up at me. I rocked the wings in acknowledgement, and pulled back hard on the stick into a vertical climb. I passed through the clouds and leveled at about 30,000 feet as Pixy copied my actions.I activated the autopilot and waited for Pixy to catch up. About a minute later, he was on my wing, and we were on our way to the Round Table.

* * *

-Several Hours Later. Area B7R. Approx. 1130 hrs.-

The Round Table was a wasteland. And that's putting it nicely. It was a barren mountainous plane, which also carried severe magnetic resistance ruling out any use of ECM or ECCM. It meant the pilot had himself and his plane alone to do the work. Everyone was on the same footing. The name held truth in it.

I was looking forward from our 30,000 foot vantage point, and I finally took the Eagle off autopilot, and engaged manual control. I armed my missiles and guns, and got as comfortable as I could in my seat. It was going to be a long day.

Radar signatures were starting to come in on the screen. It was time to play.

"Galm, this is Eagle Eye, I'm picking up eight aircraft, looks like four Mig-21's and four F-4's, in the B7R zone. Give yourself a minute to get comfortable in the area, and then initiate intercept."

"Roger, Double E, wilco."

"You ready buddy?" Pixy asked.

"Think so," I said in a fearful tone.

"This is what we were born to do, Cipher! Let's get them!"

The other ace gave me the confidence I needed to begin my attack.

"Let's switch it up Pixy, I'll take the Phantoms this time. You can play with the Mig's."

"Roger, Pixy engaging."

"Cipher, engaging."

The Phantoms were riding in a diamond formation about 7,000 feet below me. I dove for them, and put in a deflection shot on the leader aiming in front of his nose. I fired for about 5 seconds on the Phantom, and it immediately burst into a ball of fire as the other three broke formation.

"I bagged one," I hailed over the radio, "Continuing assault."

"Roger Galm 1, kill confirmed," Eagle Eye replied.

I kept after the tail bird which had reversed after the squadron had dispersed. He dove low in a Split-S trying to get me to overshoot in the descent. But, I had none of it and was right on the Phantom's tail. I fired a sidewinder, but he rolled even lower and got out of its path.

"These guys are good!" I said as I kept on the chase.

The Phantom was weaving in front of me, trying to get me to chase and put me in a rolling scissors, but again I sat back and let him wear himself out.

Fine, I thought, you won't have a missile, but you can have this!

My 20mm roared to life and was a direct hit on the Phantom, shearing the cockpit straight out of the plane. No chute.

I climbed up, chasing another Phantom. I managed to wound him in the belly with cannon fire while he flew over me. I punched left and got behind him fast, and finished him off. The last one was now coming at me head on, but another signal was coming in from Eagle Eye.

"Reinforcements coming into the Round Table. Heads up, Galm. These signatures seem different than the normal grunts."

"Roger, Galm will standby," I said subconsciously as I fired a sidewinder. It impacted the last Phantom only a few hundred in front of me and it spun out of my way into the dirt below. I switched to the enemy comm. channel to see who it was.

"Rot 1 to all planes, we got some planes on the scope, looks like the Ustio mercenaries. Time to hunt some wild dogs, down 'em all."

Rot, I thought, These guys were some of the best pilots Belka have. This distraction was working wonders for the Joint Fleet. The Belkan COC thought this "enemy recon" was more important than the entire Allied fleet advancing.

Rot. Oh shit! THE Rot!

I switched back to main comm. and gave Pixy the news as he formed up on my wing, after finishing off his Fishbeds.

"Rot Squadron is coming after us, Pixy."

"THE Rot?"

"Yup, Four planes inbound, the radio signals confirmed it."

"Well, this'll be fun."

"I don't think we can tangle with them."

"We WILL survive, Galm 1! Just do the best you can."

The Rot's came into the zone with their distinctive red-nosed, and black-bodied Typhoons.

"Typhoons, eh?" Pixy said, "These guys will definitely be a step up from the others. Watch yourself."

"I copy, Pixy, let's get to work."

They were coming right at us, straight and level. I had just the weapon to scatter them. I armed four AMRAAMs and locked them up.

"I got the Slammers, ready Pixy?"

"Yeah!"

"Fox 3, Fox 3, Fox 3, Fox 3!"

The four Slammers raced to the fighters, and while the Typhoons easily avoided them, it scattered them effectively.

"I'm taking the Rot lead! I'm going to cut the snake's head off first!" I yelled.

I dove at ninety percent thrust on the leader, and he was already giving me trouble. He quickly pulled an Immelmann turn and sped off, with the number two now hot on my tail. I rolled and dove low, almost brushing the ground as I pulled up, but the other Rot managed to follow it.

Really?!

I climbed again and saw the two other chasing Pixy out of the left corner of my eye. I turned after them, even with the number two still all over my tail. I yelled in rage as I fired my cannon, as the Typhoon behind me fired his into my Eagle. I managed to hit one of them as I raced through the storm of lead. The Typhoon behind me backed off, so he didn't crash into the fray. Pixy started to go after the wounded one, but I quickly got in his way.

"No! He's mine!" I finished him with a sidewinder and the plane burst into pieces.

"Woah! Cipher, take it easy!"

I ignored Pixy as I dove down looking for the lead. He was waiting for me at about 15,000 feet. I hit the afterburners and climbed after him, pulling an Immelmann to get on his level. He started the dance by climbing some more, and pulling a tight roll to come back and face me, so we both fired missiles at each other. I rolled low to dodge it and so did he. I managed to get back on his tail with a quick rudder drift. He then pulled into an endless vertical loop, swooping up and down in the same motion, over and over and over. I couldn't do anything. I was as at too bad of an angle of attack to fire anything effectively at him. So I broke out and made a turn along the mountains and re-engaged from a higher altitude. He was still giving me a real hard time as the Typhoon pulled a Cobra in front of me. I was waiting for the moment one of them tried something like that.

The problem with these types of maneuvers is simple. They cut speed, dramatically. While they look pretty and rather cool for the civvies, in combat they fail. It is very difficult to pull out of one of these maneuvers successfully, and even so, the precious momentum and speed you've built up is lost in a pinch. The acceleration required to recover from these maneuvers is too great for anyone to continue an effective attack. For me, the rough maneuver always won, every single time.

As soon as I saw him pull into the Cobra I stamped on my air-brake, and locked him with a Slammer. I let it loose from the pylon and it hit the Typhoon right on the money, but the damn thing was still going!

"These guys have some serious armor! A Slammer isn't even enough!" I said frantically.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Pixy yelled as I saw him hit one of them with a QAAM, "Same thing just happened to me!"

The lead dove, quick, and I followed, again. This guy was getting on my nerves, but I didn't let it show in my flying. As he turned to the right in front of me, I lined up a deflection shot.

"This is my best chance."

I fired my gun, and it growled to life. The cannon started to rip holes in the Typhoon's fuselage, and it shuddered with every hit. The engines were burning out now, and I kept my finger on the trigger. The plane leveled out, and I saw a column of smoke come out of the cockpit as a black speck rushed out. He had bailed. I finished his plane with a Sidewinder. I obliterated that piece of shit, and it felt so good to destroy that scrap heap.

I climbed after the other two which were chasing Pixy high into the clouds.

"Cipher, a little help!" Pixy called as another missile blew past where he had just been.

"Inbound," I growled.

I raced after Pixy and found the pair of Typhoons side-by-side, latched right on to his tail. I decided to engage with the cannon, so I didn't tip off the pilots with a radar spike. I fired on the right Typhoon, and quickly knocked him out of action by firing right into the cockpit. I didn't care. I wasn't taking any chances with the armor they had. The Typhoon slowly fell towards the ground with the pilot slumped up against the stick. The last Rot pilot then went into a rage, and he quickly stormed off and reversed to come after me, but I was already re-adjusted. I had climbed and positioned myself above him to his left and in front of the sun, so he couldn't see me at all. I had Slammers ready to blast his face off.

I switched over the comm. to enemy channel.

"You ready to die?" I asked.

"You Ustian dog! I'm going to kill you both!"

"Dead men's words have no value here!"

I switched back over and fired.

"Fox 3, Fox 3!"

The AMRAAMs sped towards the Typhoon and made it into an incinerator within seconds. The wreck tumbled from the heavens and hit the dirt, hard. But, the pilot had bailed right as I launched the missiles. I had scared him out.

I checked the scope, and it was clear. I leveled at 25,000 feet and took off my oxygen mask, and I was breathing heavily. I slumped back in my seat, head up to the skies. I was tired.

Almost got killed in that hellhole, I thought

Pixy formed up on my right wing, and called me on the radio.

"Yo buddy, still alive?" I didn't say or do anything. "Cipher, you there?" I gave out more silence. "You alright? What the hell what all that you were doing?"

I held up my oxygen mask, and said, "I'm winning this damn war, Pixy." I checked myself over, and was wound free. I was lucky. My Eagle, however, not so much. The tail looked like it had gone through a meat grinder, my engines were on their last legs, and the flying surfaces were barely holding together.

This bird's got almost nothing left, we need to get home fast, I thought staring over in Pixy's direction, whose Eagle was just as badly shot up.

"Eagle Eye here. Message from General Chennault: Diversion worked to perfection. Fleet is through and heading to Futuro Canal with no hindrances. Job well done. End of message. Good work Galm Team."

"Roger, Double E. My bird is badly damaged can we RTB, ASAP?"

"Oh, sorry Galm 1, you're good to go."

"Thanks Eagle Eye," I said taking a deep breath.

I looked back towards The Round Table, now knowing I had survived its test. I couldn't keep a smile off my face.

"We did it, Pixy. We did it."

"Just barely, Cipher. By a hair."

"Sometimes a hair is all you need to win."

"That's true. Listen, Cipher, you can't just throw the plane around in there and expect to win everytime."

"If I didn't expect victory, I'd never win. "

"Just," he sighed, "Watch yourself more closely, it's only going to get harder from now on. I've got a feeling isn't our last time here at The Round Table."

"I've got that same feeling. This is just the beginning of something bigger than us." I pushed up my visor and looked over at Pixy in his Eagle, "I'm tired man, can we go home instead of debating my philosophy, here of all places?"

"Yeah," he said with a small laugh, "Let's get out of here."

"Thank you."

I gently put the Eagle on the correct heading and altitude, and we left the proving ground as champions. I checked behind my mirror to see if death was sitting there. He wasn't. Not today.


	4. Chapter 4: Victory-Defeat, Switch-Repeat

_"As long as I look into the muzzles, nothing can happen to me. Only if he pulls lead am I in danger."_

_WWII Luftwaffe Ace, Hauptmann Hans-Joachim Marseille_

* * *

Ch. 4 Victory and Defeat, Switch and Repeat

-April 20, 1995. Valais AFB, Ustio. Approx. 1745 hrs.-

"Tower, this is Galm Team. We have both sustained heavy battle damage, and require an immediate emergency landing. Scramble the ambulances and fire crews," I nervously spoke desperately trying to get the F-15C's flaps to cooperate.

"Roger Galm Team. Good to see you guys made it back, you're clear for immediate landing on runway 27. We're ready for you," The tower responded with cheers audible in the background.

"Thanks tower, coming in hot."

I threw down the lever for the gear, and luckily the steel struts came out from their places and locked in position under the Eagle. I rammed the flap lever down again trying to get them to lock in maximum drag position. They wouldn't. They just wouldn't.

I lined up on course with the runway, and completely cut the engines. This was going to be a gliding landing. It was the only way it was going to work.

It was dead silent. The Eagle was gliding down to Earth, but much too quickly, my airspeed was still reading over 210 mph. As I came nearer to the ground, I reared up and pushed the tail up just like every other landing. The speed was still too high, 195 mph. About ten feet off the ground, I stamped on the rudder pedals, engaging the speed-brake. The F-15C dropped like a brick and landed hard on the rear wheels. Fortunately, the support struts didn't collapse and the tires were still intact.

Lucky bastard, I thought to myself.

I gently lowered the nose and eventually I made a soft-touchdown and eased the engines back on. Once I was at taxiing speed, I turned off the runway. I looked in the mirror to see if Pixy had made it. The solo red wing Eagle was further down the runway, but Pixy had the luck of cooperating flaps. He had a much easier time putting his Eagle on the tarmac.

I gently parked my Eagle by the team hangar, and the whole base was rushing out to meet me. Lothar broke through the crowd, and got the ladder hooked on. I opened up the canopy, and climbed out. Lothar gave me a salute, and everyone else followed in example. I returned and found the gang, who were standing further back in crowd.

"I told you I would come back," I said happily to the Halo group.

"You're not one to lie about that kind of thing," Vixen responded with a small smile, "Well done."

"You lucky jerk!" Buzzard yelled as he came over wrapping his left arm tight around my neck, and throwing me around, "I knew you could do it!"

"You….choking…..me…."I barely managed squeak out.

"Oh, sorry," he replied quietly, as I regained my composure, and my breath.

"You're fine, Buzzard. Just, don't do it again, without prior warning."

They all had a good laugh at that as Pixy caught up with me and we headed to The Jet Wash for the party. It was fucking ridiculous, everyone was really drunk except me and Pixy. There was some singing, some major spills, and some wasted people at this party. Pixy and I just sat quietly at the bar, giving thanks for anyone's congratulations. I decided this was a good time to ask him about why he was acting weird about that stuff over The Round Table. I took a swig from my beer bottle, and looked over at the ace. Pixy was staring at the wall in front of him holding his hands together in front of him. He looked to be deep in thought about something.

"Pixy, what was that stuff you were going on about today?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked stirring from his thoughts.

"You damn well know."

"Oh, that. You just remind me of somebody I used to fly with."

"Who's that?"

"A wingman of mine, that I flew with in one of the proxy wars, about 5 years ago."

"What about me reminds you of him?"

"Your tenacity. He'd never let a target slip from his grasp. Once he was on you, he never let him off, ever. He was one of the best pilots I've ever had the chance of flying with, but he got himself in trouble for not knowing his limits."

"What was his name?"

He turned to face me, and looked me over.

"Joshua Bristow."

"Wait, you flew with Bristow, of the Wizard Squadron?!"

"Yeah, he was my wingman back in '90. He flew a F-14A back then, but man, he could make that bird dance."

"Wow, I wish I could get to fly with him."

"You just might, buddy. With the way you're going, you might even surpass him."

He got up and quietly walked out of the bar. Pixy was an enigma. He was always a mystery to me, the Solo Wing pilot's past incredibly unclear. Even so, I trusted him as much he trusted me. Completely.

-Four Days Later. April 24, 1995. Futuro Canal, Sapin. Approx 1300. hrs.-

One more mission. That's how much was left in my Eagle, according to Lothar, after being almost completely trashed over The Round Table.

We were on cruise at about 30,000 feet over the canal, providing top-cover for the Osean 3rd Fleet, flag-shipped by the new Hubert-class aircraft carrier CVN-30, the Kestrel. This was her first run, and it was going to be a baptism by fire.

Halo squadron had participated in an operation earlier in the day, Round Hammer. They had destroyed the Belkan fleet stationed at the canal, the port, and the surface weapons that would have destroyed the fleet, if left untouched. They had refueled and rejoined the fight for Operation Costner, which was our operation, where we would be protecting the fleet from any and all air attacks. Halo was just there to take out any ground forces that could have been missed by the other ops. It was nice to fly with my friends again.

"Hey! Rainman!" I called mockingly.

"What! Shut the hell up Cipher!"

"Tonight, I'm going to hold you to your promise!"

"What promise?"

"The one that you could take us all on by yourself! You said you could in training."

"You guys don't really think I.."

"Now, now," I said cutting him off, "Don't chicken out on us."

"Yeah," Buzzard chimed in, "I can't wait to get back now!"

"We'll see if it humbles Mr. Knight over here," Lobo chuckled.

I heard a beeping coming from my left in the cockpit. I took a look at the radar. The IFF squawk was now going off like crazy.

"Eagle Eye, I'm picking up heavy enemy activity, confirm on your end, over," I broadcasted over the comm.

"I'm not liking this," Pixy muttered.

"Me either," I whispered back.

"Galm Team, this is Eagle Eye, IFF activity is confirmed on our end. Looks like several waves of ground-attack aircraft. You are cleared to intercept. Halo squadron maintain current heading and altitude."

"Roger, Eagle Eye, Halo will maintain course, " Tiger called back in, restoring order among his cubs.

"Roger, Eagle Eye, we're on the move."

We rolled over in our Eagles and dove for the attackers closing in from both sides of canal.

"Pixy I'll take the western bank to defend, you take the East."

"I copy, Cipher."

We split off to engage the bandits. Four F-1's were coming in the first attack wave. I dove left, steadying about 2,000 feet, to start my attack. I lined up the F-1's for AMRAAMs. As they entered effective range, I let them loose from their chains.

"Fox 3! Fox 3! Fox..ah, forget it."

The Slammers blitzed through the air, and swatted the F-1 attackers out of the air like flies. I gained altitude readying for the next wave. Tornado GR.4's this time. More of a challenge.

I started my attack by making a tight Split-S to get behind the five craft, and immediately let rip with my cannon. The furthest back Tornado was caught in the gunfire, and quickly flopped into the sands. I moved up after the next one, and he tried climb up and right, but I pulled a deflection shot, and he too, was done.

The other three then broke off their attack on the fleet, and decided to come after me. I jumped up on full power, and sped away from them, pulling into a 85 degree climb. The Tornadoes came up after me, and I was ready to make my move. At about 27,000 feet, I stalled and flipped the Eagle to come down and go after them. At about an 80 degree angle of attack, I opened fire with my cannon on the Tornadoes. I fired into the cockpit of the lead, scoring a direct hit. It rolled out of my path, and I continued my fire on the other GR.4's. The second came into range and I made another cockpit shot, again, I was right on the money. The final one weaved out of his climb before I could get to him, and he tried to run for the fleet to get at least some of his ordnance off. I got right behind him, and gave him a little present. A sidewinder quickly rammed into the Tornado's tail, nicely ripping it off. I checked my radar for more bogies. Nothing on my end.

"Saw the whole thing," Vixen called, "You're getting pretty good Cipher."

"Ruthlessness and patience make a good combination,"Zero hailed on the comm.

"Aw, guys, I'm flattered," I said beaming. I checked the radar and there were still a few signatures coming up.

"Pixy how's it looking on your side? I'm no joy over here."

"I'm almost finished up here, got two Tornadoes. I've almost got them wrapped up."

"Roger, keep at it."

I checked the scope again, and three pairs of new bogies were coming in. One on my side of the river, another coming from the north of the canal, and the last one on Pixy's side.

"Uh, Eagle Eye? You seeing this?"

I waited for the tactical controller's response.

"Roger Galm 1, you are advised to engage the squadron on your side of the canal and the same goes for Galm 2."

"Roger," Pixy grunted, sounding like he was going through a high-G turn.

"Halo squadron!" The AWACS controller barked.

"Yes, Eagle Eye?" Tiger called back.

"We're picking up additional aircraft entering the engagement zone. You and your squadron will attack the two targets to the north of the canal."

"Roger Eagle Eye, let's roll cubs."

There was a chorus of rogers, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Halo's six F-16 XLs zooming to the north.

I turned my attention to out West where two signatures were coming in from. I was circling in my area of engagement at 28,000 feet, and two specks were coming in from eleven o'clock at about 10,000 feet. I took out my monocular, really my sawed-off half of a binocular, and focused in on the specks. I wasn't happy with what I saw.

"I got Flankers on my end," I said as I put my monocular away.

"Mirages here," Pixy replied.

"Tigers are closing in on us, ready your cannons," I heard Captain Cho order.

I focused back on my business, and took off in pursuit of the Belkan Flankers. They immediately turned and came back in my direction as soon as I began pursuit. I readied my finger over the special weapon release button on my joystick, and continued accelerating towards the Flankers. The twin engine Sukhoi fighters were closing the distance fast, and were about to enter their effective missile range as well. It was a standoff to see who could fire off their missiles first.

Tick…..

Tock…

Tick…

Tock…

Tick…..

Lock! I fired off two Slammers and waited for the confirmation on the enemy missile fire. After another two seconds, my missile warning began screaming in my ear as I waited for the missiles to come to me. I could see them snaking at thousands of miles per hour through the heavens towards the nose of my Eagle. As soon as I could see the tips of their AMRAAMs clearly in the distance, I hit the afterburners and dove low under the path of the missiles. They couldn't keep up the loop and I was free. I looked around for the Flankers and I caught a glimpse of smoke trails from where they had been. I followed them to the ground, and the fighters were a heap of wreckage on the sands of Futuro. So much for that.

"Sit-rep Eagle Eye," I called instinctively.

"The west and east sides of the canal are clear. But…."

Oh shit.

"I'm on my way north! Pixy get on my tail now!"

"Roger Cipher!"

We hauled as fast as we could on full combat power to get to Halo's position. They still hadn't managed to shoot down the Tigers, which I didn't hold against them. Some pilots just aren't marksmen with their cannons, and they hadn't received any sort of air-to-air missiles for the operation.

"Halo squadron, clear the area immediately. We'll take these bandits," I hailed on the comm. as we rushed into the swarm of lead and contrails.

"Roger, they were….." Tiger said but he was cut off rather quickly. I saw his XL heading my direction away from the fight at my high-twelve, but in a flash, the delta-wing Falcon exploded, and almost took me out as it crashed down from the heavens. Tiger had the most unfortunate missile contact I'd ever seen. The sidewinder had slammed right into the remaining ordinance on his wings, which also detonated on impact. The Falcon was torn in half, and there was no chute or safe ejection. Tiger rode that thing to his grave.

"NO!" I called, "Eagle Eye, Halo 1 is down! I repeat Halo 1 is down!"

"Roger Galm 1," the controller called, "The faster you clear that airspace, the quicker we can send the rescue choppers."

"Copy that," I scowled. "Buzzard!"

"Yeah Cipher? I'm a bit busy shaking these guys!"

"You're next on the chain! Get the rest of the guys out! Pixy and I will splash these jokers!"

"Roger Cipher! Vixen! Lobo! Rainman! Zero! Get out now! We don't stand a chance!"

I quickly locked up the Tigers and fired my Slammers in their direction. I had to get them to move so I could safely evacuate Halo. The quick lock-and-fire had scared the jumpy Belkans, as the two F-5's quickly turned tail, to try and set up another attack. This distraction was just enough to get Halo Team out of the Belkans' grasp, and they managed to safely bug out.

"Thanks for the assist, Cipher," Buzzard panted heavily.

"Watch over them," I quietly and calmly ordered the new Halo 1.

"I will."

"Pixy, down 'em both."

"Roger, let's get them," my wingman replied.

The Tigers came head on at us, but we didn't fire and just made them move out of our way. We immediately reversed, and took to the chase. I was chasing the one that shot down Tiger, and decided I was going to torture him, just a little bit. I rode the F-5's tail, spiking him with a missile lock. I refused to fire, closing in to less than 500 feet behind the fighter. He leveled from a climb and just sat there, thinking he was dead. Seconds continued to pass as he continued flying straight south. I pulled up on his left and looked over at him. He was shaking uncontrollably and he looked rather afraid, as he turned to look at me. He actually had a Tiger painted under his cockpit. I scowled and got back behind the Belkan's tail. I fired my sidewinder without hesitation, and the F-5 shattered, and the collection of metals and compounds fell to the Earth, and a pilot in a parachute was not far off. It took all my strength to not shoot him in his chute.

"That was for the real Tiger, you bastard!" I growled over the radio.

"My target's down Eagle Eye. Probably think it's time for us to go home," Pixy hailed.

"Roger Galm 2."

"This is Captain Weeker on the Kestrel, we received no damage from the enemy ground-attack planes. Couldn't have gone any smoother. My thanks goes out to our escorts. We've already sent a chopper out to the downed plane," the jubilant captain said from the safety of the bridge on his aircraft carrier.

"Thanks Captain," Buzzard called over the radio.

"Galm and Halo teams are to RTB immediately, over." The AWACS called.

"Roger," Pixy called, "Let's go Cipher."

We turned and headed north-east back to Valais. I slowly looked over my shoulder to see if Death was on my tail. He wasn't. Not today.


	5. Chapter 5

_"The hunters are the ones who go out and kill. Maybe one out of ten good fighter pilots will be one of the hunters."_

_Jack Ilfrey, USAAF, 8 victories WWII._

* * *

Ch.5 Desk Jockeys and Flight-Stick Cowboys

-April 25, 1995. Valias AFB. Approx. 0930 hrs.-

I stood at the end of the runway, part of the vigil standing on the concrete outcropping that jutted into the valley. Valais was silent today. No movement, no activity. All of the missions scheduled had been cancelled. Everyone on base came to this little ceremony at the end of the runway, looking out into the snow-filled beauty of the mountains. Even General Chennault came to pay his respects. It was a fitting place to do it.

Sad is not the word that accurately described how we felt. Angry, perhaps. But in reality, it was part disappointment, and part happiness. Tiger was in a place where he no longer had to risk his life anymore, but it was disappointing, that he had died, in my mind, for a cause that really was worthless. He was a good pilot, and even though I didn't know him well, I held a great amount respect for him.

Unfortunately, the rescue teams were unable to retrieve his body, since he went down over the water, and I was pretty sure he was badly decapitated and thrown out of his plane on impact, so it might of been good that they didn't. All we had of his that was left was a bag of some personal belongings, which we were sending back to his family.

Vixen was laying her head into my right shoulder, looking out into the barren land. The sun was cresting over the high over the Eastern peaks, and cast a solemn shadow over the group. I had my head bowed, and my mind was filled with sorrow. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was sad looking back on what happened. I turned my head to look at Vicki, and she had much the same look on her face.

"I'm never going to let this happen again," I spoke softly into her ear.

"Unfortunately Erich, we don't have much control over that."

"I know, but I'm going to work even harder to keep everyone alive. We have to make it through this."

"We will, Erich, we will. We just have to stick together, and watch each others backs. Besides that, there's nothing more we can do."

I looked down at my feet, and sighed. Something in the back of my head was telling me it was going to get a lot worse from here on.

I felt a hand tap me on the left shoulder, and I slowly rotated my head around to see who it was. Chennault. I was too worn down to even salute.

"Do you mind coming with me, Mr. Voller?"

"No."

I whispered my goodbye into Vixen's ear, and walked off from the silent remembrance. The General took me over into GHQ escorted by two MP's. I had no idea why he wanted to see me. Chennault took me into his office, and motioned me to sit down in a chair facing his desk. I had never been in his office before. It was rather plain, white walls, grey carpet, tactical board over to his right, and a large oak desk. His desk was cluttered with papers and information reports. I was glad at that moment that I wasn't a general. I couldn't imagine how they kept up with all the procedural jargon and bureaucracy.

"I'm sorry to drag you away from the remembrance. It pains me greatly that we lost Cho. He was a good man, and a hell of a pilot."

"We were lucky to have him," I said solemnly.

"You got that right," he chuckled lightly, but his smile soon faded.

"What do you need general?"

"It's not necessarily that, I need you, but some people do need you. But, there's something I need to give you first."

He opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a small sealed envelope. My name was hand-written in a fancy text on the front, with no return address, or any evidence of who it was from. I opened it, and the first thing I pulled out was a small piece of paper.

It read:

_Dear Mr. Erich Voller,_

_The government of Ustio would like to thank you for your service in our armed forces, and preventing our nation from being overrun by Belka. By order of Chancellor Lehmann, you have been given an honorary officer's commission in the Ustian Air Force as a Senior Captain, due to your actions and your heritage as a Ustian native before our independence. You have also been awarded the Military Merit Cross(located in envelope), for your act of courage against impossible odds over combat area B7R. We thank you for your gallantry in defense of our nation._

_With regards,_

_Defense Minister Heinrich Graf_

I almost dropped the letter in shock.

"Is this real?"

"Yes, it is," The general replied lighting a cigarette.

"This is incredible, I can't believe it."

"Well Mr… I mean, Senior Captain Voller, this leads to the part about someone needing you."

"Lay it on me."

"You've seen the ATF news, as of late?"

"Yes sir, I have."

"Well, I got a call yesterday from Osea's Joint Chiefs, and they had a request for me."

"Well, what is it?"

"They're coming here tomorrow, and they want you to test and advise them on which aircraft they should pick."

I put my head in my heads and laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. That's really the reason you got an officer's commission, so you can look professional in front of the Osean commanders."

"Again, I know nothing. Now, I need a uniform."

"We already have one for you. It's here at GHQ, in your new room."

"Huh?"

"Since you're a commissioned Ustian officer and a unit commander, you can now stay here in one of the CO rooms."

"Alright, I will, but only if Pixy and Halo team is allowed to stay here as well."

"Of course, I've made such arrangements already. I wasn't going to let you sleep in the warm while they freeze their butts off in the NCO barracks."

I chuckled. Again, Chennault surprised me.

"Do I still make my mercenary pay?"

"Yes, you will, plus this new annual salary."

"Can't complain about that."

"Sure can't," he added as he turned back to his paperwork, "You're free to go Captain, and make sure you pin that medal in the envelope on your dress uniform when you get it. One of the MP's will show you your way to your room, your things are already there."

I got up and saluted, and he half-returned it. I strolled back out the door, and I put the envelope in my jacket pocket. The MP who would be escorting me was right outside.

"This way, Captain," the white-helmeted sergeant announced. I was led back to the entrance of the GHQ and he stopped there. "So, there's two main halls. The one you just came from that goes to the left is to the general's office and briefing rooms. The hall to the right goes to commissioned officer's quarters, showers, and mess."

"Ok, thanks for the heads up, Sergeant," I said trying hard to wipe away my frown.

A small grin appeared on the sergeant's face, "Anytime, sir."

He took me down the right hall a ways, and stopped me again at one of the doors on the right. The door itself matched the hall. Bland, cold, and emotionless. A small plaque read 11.

"This is your room Captain, Number 11. The general also asked me to inform you the Chiefs will be arriving in the morning around 0730 hrs, and that you should be well prepared before then."

"Thanks for the relay," I said, "I appreciate the help."

"Sir," he replied as he saluted.

I returned the salute.

Well, I'm going to have to deal with this shit non-stop tomorrow, I thought. Fantastic.

I push opened the door to my room. It was not half bad. There was a single bunk-bed, a couch underneath a large window directly facing the door, and a small desk with a lamp over on the left wall. The walls were painted white, of course.

On the bottom bunk there was my bag, my new uniform, and something else too. A brand new flight jacket, leather of course. But instead of the worn brown color that mine was, this one was a shining jet-black. The jacket also had black wool for the collar lining, and had the big Galm Team insignia on the back. I quickly pulled my jacket off and tried the new one on. Fit me like a glove. I took it back off and sat it on the bed, so I could check the fit on the uniform.

It was a retconned stone-grey Belkan Air Force uniform. It was easy to tell from the button style and the hat, since my father had one just like it. The buttons were laid on on the sides of the dress jacket, so it could hang open when not on active duty. The hat was a field-grey peaked crusher, and had a piping of color between two buttons, that ran around the whole circumference. A Belkan Air Force Officer's peak hat piping was typically colored yellow, but since this was repurposed for the Ustian Air Force, whoever issued it changed the color to red to match the national colors.

I put the whole thing on, shirt, jacket, hat, shoes, the whole damn thing. It actually fit pretty well, and was somewhat comfortable. I pulled the envelope out of my flight jacket pocket, and took out a small rectangular black box. I opened it, and pulled out the small red and white cross. Also in the box was a small note. It read:

_The Military Merit Cross, Order of the First Class, is to be worn on the left breast._

_DM HG_

I unbuttoned my jacket, and pinned the medal over the left breast pocket of my shirt. My rank insignia's for Senior Captain were already attached on the collar braids, and the four studs were laid on the shoulder mark, also signaling a Senior Captain.

I put on my peak cap and put on my new black flight jacket, and headed back outside. The little ceremony had already concluded, and I headed over to the end of the runway where Buzzard and Vixen were still standing. They both looked rather downcast, so I decided I would give them the good news.

"Hey, you lowlifes!"

They turned and their bottom lips just hit the ground.

"Woah Erich! When'd you get that?" Buzzard said astounded.

"Few minutes ago. Chennault handed me my officer's commission for the Ustian Air Force, came down the chain from the Chancellor himself."

"Congrats Erich," Vixen said as she came over and patted me on the shoulder.

"There's also some more good news, and a little bad news, mainly for me."

"Hit me," Buzzard replied.

"Good news, you all get a commissioned officer's room at GHQ."

"Sweet! What's the bad news?"Vixen asked

"Well, the Joint Chiefs are coming tomorrow, and they're having me test and advise them on which fighter to pick for ATF."

"That's not life ending, Cipher," I heard from behind me. Pixy. He seemed to be his regular cool, collected self. No outward display of weakness. "That's better than getting killed."

"Yeah, well, there's nothing I can't stand more than politicking generals and commanders. They're so full of themselves, and how 'brilliant' they are. Wouldn't be surprised if they nuked themselves. Probably would call it a victory," They all laughed at that, not realizing the truth behind those words, "Well, you guys probably need to get your things moved. I'll see you later."

I gave out my goodbyes, and everyone seemed to be in a little bit better of a mood. That was a victory in itself.

-Next Day. April 26, 1995. Approx. 0915 hrs.-

The Joint Chiefs came into Valais on a E-3 Sentry to avoid any combat. The re-purposed 707 landed on the dot at 0745, escorted by the two prototype fighters. The first order of business was the routine base tour led by General Chennault.

Pixy and I weren't required to go on it, so we waited for them to get to us in the Galm Team hangar. Lothar was busy working on Pixy's Eagle, since the hours off was giving him time to get it repaired before our next sortie, since mine was beyond repair after the strain I put on it during the last sortie, anyways. Pixy and I were sitting in folding chairs at the nose of my ruined Eagle, facing the hangar door waiting for judgement. The weather had darkened up a little from yesterday, with the sun now breaking through mixed cloud cover. I was jittering and squirming in my chair. I didn't like this whole charade one bit.

"I want this to be done, now," I muttered angrily.

"Trust me Cipher, I don't like this anymore than you do. We just have to play along."

"I hate playing games with this. These guys think they're smarter than everyone else. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's pretentiousness. Though I've heard the Marine guy isn't half bad though."

"Yeah, I heard the Marine Corps guy was alright too, but I also heard they're getting ready to kick him out fast."

"Why's that?"

"Apparently he likes to say 'No' to people."

"The boys in the Corps probably love him,"I said as I started to hear some voices coming from the distance, "Shit! Here they come. Schnell!"

We picked up our chairs folded them, and quickly threw them to side of the hangar with a loud, 'CLANG'. Lothar and the few other ground crew members dropped all of their things and hurried to stand with us. I quickly unzipped my flight jacket so my dress jacket could be seen, and straightened my crusher hat. Lothar stood on my left, and Pixy was on my right. The ground personnel evened the formation on both sides.

The five men were led by Chennault into the hangar. They all looked to be at least in their fifties, if not more. They all had grave and wrinkled faces. They wore their respective uniforms, and full peak caps, probably hiding bald spots. We all snapped to attention at once and saluted.

"Now," Chennault began, "This is our other main squadron that supports the Halo squadron ground attack team. At ease, gentlemen."

We stood with our hands behind our backs, and legs spread.

"This is the 6th Air Division's 66th Tactical Fighter Unit. Galm Team. Our two pilots in this Unit are Ustian Senior Captain Erich Voller, and Mercenary Lieutenant Larry Foulke. Our repair operations on base are carried out by Chief Mechanic Lothar Wolff."

The Army chief, a five star, stepped forward. He stared at my Eagle and walked over to the left, getting a full view of the battle damage. The Commander came back to the center and looked at all of us.

Oh shit. Here we go.

"Which one of you is Captain Voller?"

I took a big step forward, "Sir."

"I have something to ask you."

"Go ahead, sir."

"Our reports have stated you've shot down over 25 Belkan combat aircraft within the space of less than two months. How'd you do it? I don't honestly believe a kid like you could have accomplished such a feat, against arguably, the world's best air force. Would you care to explain to us how you went about doing this?"

"You kill, sir."

"What?"

"You kill without hesitation, sir."

"Well that's self explanatory. I mean what tricks do you use. Is that all you really do?"

"A moment's hesitation, can lead to darkness, forever. You can't hesitate. That's killed too many pilots. You never let any of them get away, even if they have a cripple limp. If you shoot them all down, they won't come back so quickly. They die over you. It's something you learn growing up in Belkan territory. You do whatever you can to survive, sir. If you have to throw away chivalry, or orders to do so, you do it. Of course, sir, you wouldn't know anything about this, since you were a peacetime suck-up lifer soldier, weren't you?"

Then the navy chief, a fleet admiral, stepped forward. "Captain, do you realize the implications of acting in such a insubordinate manner?"

"Of course I do, sir," I replied, still blank-faced, "I'm being honest. The truth is the most bitter fruit out there, and those who eat it often, are seen as such. The truth is reasonable. You ask my wingman, you ask anyone in Halo Team, you ask anyone in this volunteer group, you ask anyone in the 6th, they'll tell you the damn truth, sir. You kill, sir. It's the only reasonable answer."

"Well, your answers don't sound reasonable," the army chief spat back.

"Well sir, this unreasonable Captain who stands before you, happens to be your best combat pilot, with the most kills ever in supersonic combat. Whether, you like it or not sir, you need me. I will continue to kill until this is over, sir. And I will not compromise myself, sir, in order to kiss your dirty boots." The Army and Navy chief just scowled at me. "If you want to leave and not have me do this, sir, I would not be against it. I leave that up to you."

The Marine chief then stepped up and walked over to me, "I think I do want you to do this, son."

The Air Force chief then came over as well, "I agree with General Cartwright. I think it is in our best interest that we have your judgement, Captain Voller. Your experiences would greatly benefit the choice we would make."

"Thank you, sir," I said in surprise.

The Army and Navy Chiefs looked like they were about to let off a ten-kiloton warhead go off.

"Fine, Cartwright," the Army chief responded angrily, "Have it your way, but I'm only giving you 24 hours. No more, no less."

"I think 24 hours should be enough, Tressler," Cartwright calmly retorted, "And Admiral Walker, you should keep your nose out of this. From what I heard, the Navy doesn't even give a damn about this project anyways."

Admiral Walker's lips twisted at that remark, and the Army and Navy Chiefs stormed off, heading somewhere. Marine General Cartwright then turned and held out his hand to me.

"You're acting a bit fiery today, Captain."

"Only when I have to be, sir" I replied as I shook his hand, which was surprisingly small.

"I think you'll do well for us, Captain. I'm Air Marshall Halsey."

"Well met, Marshall. Since we have little time, do you mind taking me to the planes?"

"Absolutely Captain," Halsey replied kindly.

I headed out of the hangar, with Lothar in tow carrying some of my gear along with the ground crews to get me started up. We headed down the line to the two prototypes.

"You're free to pick whichever one you want to fly first, Captain," the Marine Corps chief bellowed.

I looked at the two birds, and quickly decided on the menacing looking YF-23.

"I'll take up the 23 first."

"Alright Captain," The marshall replied.

The 23 was a long bird. This prototype, only one of two built, was painted black to fit its namesake of the Black Widow II. It had a low V-shaped tail, where the tailplanes would actually move based on a pilot's input. While it did not have the YF-22's thrust vectoring, It was still very maneuverable, even if it slightly lagged behind the 22.

Lothar popped the Widow's canopy open and hooked on the ladder, as the crew got to doing their final preparation checks. Lothar then handed me my helmet. I took off my crusher cap, and handed it to him in exchange. I strapped the plastic helmet on, and lowered the visor. I climbed up into the bird, and buckled in. I got a feel for the controls, and it felt quite comfortable and familiar immediately.

"Bird feels good, Marshall."

"It should, most of that is out of a F-15. Some of the gear parts are from an F-18 as well."

I laughed, "That explains some things. Well, I'm off then. I'll try to get an idea as soon as possible."

I closed up the canopy, and started the General Electric turbofans. The engines rumbled to life, and I gave the wave-off signal to remove the chocks and equipment. I started the Widow down the taxiway and put her on the end of the runway.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, call-sign Widow Flight. Requesting take-off on runway two-seven."

"Roger Widow Flight, you are cleared for launch."

"Galm 1 copies, proceeding with launch."

I throttled the engines up, putting the throttle lever into afterburner range. The Black Widow rocketed forward, and easily got me up in the air. I leveled the Widow off at about 25,000 over the base. I sat silently as I pushed the bird around doing some basic maneuvers. I then picked up a friendly radar signature coming up on me. I thought about who it could be. Then I realized, there could only be one.

"You thought I was just going to sit back there while you played with the toys, eh buddy?" I heard over the radio.

Of course.

"Pixy, where are you?"

"Right next to you."

I looked over my shoulder to my right, and saw Pixy flying right there. He was in the YF-22, and gave me a thumbs-up from the cockpit. I just shook my head in reply.

"What do you say to a little friendly competition, Pixy?"

"I'm up for it, let's give these new blood-hawks a real test. Are the bigwigs down there fine with it?"

"I'll check, Pixy," I said as I adjusted the comm., "Tower, we want to perform combat simulations, are the higher ups alright with this?"

"I'll look into it for you, Widow Flight."

"Thanks."

In the meantime we did some more intensive combat maneuvers to pass the time. I got a feel for the bird's handling, and the Widow, to my surprise, was a pretty good plane. The engines were incredibly powerful, and it made the bird into a human-piloted, inter-continental ballistic death machine. The handling was pretty smooth, and wasn't choppy at all. Pretty much every Osean-built plane typically had that trait. I was genuinely pleased with it. Northrock had made a plane for the ages.

"Hey Cipher, how's that bird handling?"

"Pretty good, actually. I kinda like the damn thing."

"This Raptor isn't too bad. Lots of techie-stuff in here, though. I feel like I'm inside a damn computer."

"I know what you mean. I'm going to check with the Tower."

"I copy, Cipher."

"Tower, this is Widow Flight. What's the status on our request, over."

Nothing.

"Tower, this is Widow Flight, please respond."

"This is the tower, you are cleared for combat simulation. The only request from Command is that you keep it over base, Widow Flight, so that if there are any problems you can get down ASAP, over."

"Roger Tower, initiating simulation, over."

We lined up opposite of each other in the sky. We were ready.

"Alright Cipher, game on!"

We throttled at full blast past each other, and I went into a climb on super-cruise speed. I rolled over, and pulled back on the stick. Pixy's initial movement had put him lower than me, so I went on the chase. He turned to my left in response to my dive, so that I overshot. I cut the throttle and turned hard after him. Pixy though, had already reversed and was coming head on at me. In response, I quickly put the Widow back into a climb. Pixy was quickly back on my tail, and was pushing me. I needed to get away from him, quick. I made an Immelmann turn, and put the engines on full afterburner. And this is where I had the advantage. Even though it was a small difference in speed, it was enough to pull away from him.

I have to make cuts at him. I can't win a turning battle, I thought.

I climbed high into the late morning sun to the East, and lost Pixy. The Raptor was sitting at about 17,000 feet, and I was above him at about 30,000 feet. I readjusted so I could come down right on top of him. I dropped into a dive at about a 50 degree angle of attack. Pixy hadn't reacted to the initial move, so I managed to close in even more. He had no idea I was coming. I closed within sidewinder range, and made sure the master arm was off.

"Pixy you're dead."

"Wha… oh. Good flying Cipher. Should of seen that coming."

"Yeah, that attack is rule number one in the book. I think we should get back to Earth."

"Sounds good to me."

We banked low and right to set up to land on the valley approach.

"Galm 1 and 2 here, requesting permission to land runway 9, over."

"Roger Galm Team, you are cleared to land."

I lined up the Widow, lowered the flaps, and cut the throttle back. The Widow slowly descended, and I was right on the money for the soft back-wheel touchdown. I pushed the stick forward, and the front wheel made contact. I looked back to see if Pixy was there. He wasn't.

"Pixy, this is Cipher. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, something's messed up."

"What?"

"Engines flamed out when I lowered the thrust for landing. I'll only get one approach."

"Roger Pixy. Tower, you got that?"

"Roger Galm 1. Emergency crews are on standby, over."

"Just take it easy, Pixy."

"I will. Wait. I got another warning light going off. Oh come on! Really, now?!"

"What's happening now?"

"Oxygen system is going haywire, the computer's losing it, and everything else that's electronic is basically quitting right in front of my eyes. Probably need to put this thing down now."

"Really? Just maybe?"

"Ah, shut your big mouth Cipher," he said with a laugh, "I'm coming in hot, tower."

Pixy immediately put the YF-22 on approach, and the Raptor made its way down. He had a safe touchdown, and managed to stop the flying deathtrap. I turned back to my own business and put the Widow back where I found it. The Air and Marine Chief were already there waiting for me. I popped the canopy, and I took off my oxygen mask.

"How'd it fly?"Marshall Halsey asked.

"Better than the other one, apparently," I said motioning in Pixy's direction on the runway.

They looked over at the stopped Raptor on the runway.

"Is he alright?"

"Yeah, Pixy just had an engine flame-out, an oxygen system failure, and a million other things happen on his landing approach. Just might be a problem."

"I suppose that answers our question then," Marine Commander Cartwright said, "Thanks for the help Captain Voller."

"Anytime."

The chiefs walked away in the direction of GHQ. I hopped out of the Widow and gave my helmet back to Lothar. He gave me back my crusher cap, and I centered it on my head. Pixy joined me on the walk back to the team hangar.

"That thing almost killed me!" Pixy yelled.

"Well, at least that helped make the decision for them, anyways," I said indifferently.

"Hey! Are you even listening?" he said as he punched me in the shoulder, "Don't make me do that anymore!"

"What?! I didn't make you do shit! You came up after me, you jealous hot-rodder!"

We both had a good laugh at that.

Then and now you have to have a light heart towards death, or you'd end up drinking with him rather quick. That's a golden fighter pilot rule. Don't know which number though.

* * *

**Glossary: (aka, What? This is still a thing?)**

**Peak/Crusher Cap: Basically a commissioned officer's dress uniform hat. The Crusher was mainly pioneered by the Prussian Army in WWI where the lining holding the hat up was taken out, so it could be 'crushed' and worn comfortably under a Stahlhelm. If you want to see what one looks like, just google Manfred von Richthofen. Most pictures of him have him wearing one.**

**Can Lead to Darkness Forever: Reference to a line said by Ace of Aces Erich Hartmann. Actual quote: "One second of frivolity during a mission can mean forever darkness."**

**Military Merit Cross: Based an Austro-Hungarian Award. Equivalent to Germany's Knight's Cross Award.**


	6. Chapter 6: Nothing Is True

Ch.6 Nothing Is True

-April 26, 1995 Valais AFB 1400 hrs-

"We've made our decision, based on our findings, and the advising done by Captain Voller," The Chair of the Joint Chiefs, Army Commander Tressler addressed to the reporters in the conference room.

Pixy and I were standing in the back of the room behind all of the cameras and news reporters, arms crossed, and looking rather indifferent to the whole proceeding.

"You betting they're going to pick 22?" Pixy whispered in my ear.

"Well yeah," I retorted back confidently.

"How much?"

"Two rounds for everyone, at the Jet Wash."

He held out his hand, and I shook it.

The General picked up a piece of paper handed to him by Fleet Admiral Walker.

"The Joint Chiefs awards the production contract for the ATF competition to the YF-22 of the Lokhill aeronautics corporation for producing an extremely maneuverable aircraft. The engines will be the new Pratt &amp; Whitney YF-119 engines, due to their simplicity and durability."

We couldn't help but giggle a little bit at the engine part.

"Guess I win Pixy."

"Yeah, Yeah, whatever."

The room cleared quickly shortly after that. Commander Tressler and Admiral Walker completely ignored us as they walked out of the room. Marshall Halsey came over to us not long after.

"It seems your input had no effect on them, Captain. I tried to tell them what had happened with the Lieutenant's engine and oxygen system failures."

"It's fine," I retorted glumly, "I half-expected it anyways. I'm just disappointed the Widow is cut. I was hoping I could fly one of those birds in future."

Halsey smiled and went over said a few things to General Cartwright I couldn't make out. The Marine General nodded as he got on the phone and headed out of the room. The Marshall came back over to us.

"Well, Captain, you just got your wish."

"What? You mean?"

"The Widow is your's now Captain."

My jaw had gone through the floor at this point. I had just gotten the greatest present in the history of the world.

"I can't even…."

"It's alright Captain. General Cartwright and I agreed that you and your crew would take good care of the Widow. The Allies' best pilot needs the best plane, and its only right if it's the one he prefers, after all."

"Man, Pixy! This is real!"

"Congrats, Cipher. You earned that bird."

"Thank you Marshall," I said saluting, "But what about the dead Raptor?"

"I think your mechanic can probably get that thing up and working somehow. We can't really take it back with us anyhow, so we'll leave it with you here at Valais," he said with a small smile on his face as he looked at his watch, "Well, time for me to get back to the Pentagon in Oured. Good luck to you both. I don't think this is the last I'll hear from you."

Marshall Halsey jogged out of the room to catch up with the rest of the Chiefs for the ride home. I was rooted to the spot. I just could not believe it.

"I think this is my best day since I've joined, Pixy, or at least close to," I quipped with a huge smile.

"At least it's for a good reason! Let's get the plane towed back to the team hangar, and then I'll get you those drinks, eh?" he yelled as he ran outside.

"Yeah, you better!" I said chasing after him.

* * *

-Two weeks later May 5, 1995 Approx 1630 hrs.-

"Alright people, let's get this started," General Chennault boomed from his podium.

I was in the briefing room with Pixy, and Halo squadron. We now had our first sortie since Tiger went down. It was time to get back to the real business.

"Later today, the Osean 122nd Airborne Division will launch an offensive into Solis Ortus, officially dubbed: Operation Varsity. They will land in three designated landing zones, running along a valley in the mountains. However, these areas have high concentrations of enemy AA guns and SAM's. We need Halo squadron to provide Close Air Support and take out the enemy positions to make the landing zones safe for our boys."

"Consider it done, General," Buzzard replied, oozing confidence. The Usean pilot had really stepped up his game after Tiger went down. The Usean knew he needed to be his best to keep his wingmen alive.

"Good. Galm Team will provide will provide air cover for the transports, and for Halo as well until the operation is complete."

"Ok, General. Am I clear to use the new bird?"

"Command has given the all clear," the grizzled General said with a grin.

"Yes!" I yelled happily, high-fiving Pixy.

"That's all. Operation will commence at around 1800, so you will need to launch immediately. Dismissed."

The respected general received a room full of salutes, and he gave a small one in return. We grabbed our gear, and headed out to the flight line.

As we walked to the team hangar, everyone around us just stopped and stared at us. They saw me, a 20 year old Ustian killing machine, the highest scoring supersonic ace in the world, right in front of them. They were just now starting to realize it. The black-leather flight jacket just helped me play the role of the clever leatherneck, just a little better.

We reached the team hangar, and I called the Halo squadron over to come see the new plane. It was covered with a tarp, so I could surprise them with the new look.

"This it, bro?" Lobo asked.

"Yup, you're all going to love what I did to the new girl."

I yanked the tarp hard, and it flew off the Black Widow II.

"Wow!" Vixen said completely in awe.

"Now, that, is a plane," Zero remarked.

I changed the coloring to a bright red, and I added to it with my own personal touches. Under the cockpit I had painted a white Knight's Cross with a Silver border, and inside the cross in black lettering it read 'Teufel' or Devil. The tailplanes and wingtips had been painted in the same fashion as my Eagle but this time they were painted white. Finally, near the rear of the fuselage I had written in white, 'Kriegst mich nicht!' or the Belkan equivalent of, 'You can't catch me!'.

"Well, that's what I want a fighter plane to look like," I remarked looking at the monster.

"I think those guys are going to target you even more now, Cipher," Rainman pipped in.

"Good! Bring them on. Means I won't have to go and find them," I boomed, a wide grin growing on my face, "Well the airborne isn't going to wait for us! Let's get going, Scramble!"

Everyone ran off in different directions in a frenzy, as I waited for Lothar to attach the ladder so I could get in. Lothar quickly hooked it on the right side of the Widow's cockpit and helped me get in. I took my place in the saddle, zipped up my flight jacket and buttoned up the collar. I buckled up the multiple-point harness, and started my pre-flight checks. Lothar unhooked the ladder and then called,

"Erich! Catch!"

I looked to my right, and I saw my black and gold flight helmet flying towards me, at a dangerous speed. I quickly snatched it out of the air, and threw my grey officer crusher cap back in return. "Gluck Auf!"(Good Luck) I heard him yell as I closed the canopy. I strapped on my helmet, and finished the electronics systems check. I started up the General Electric rockets, and gave the cross-drop. The gear and chocks were removed and I was on my way.

I felt so happy. I was in the pinnacle of modern fighter planes. Me, a small farm-town boy from Ustio was flying a unique plane that no-one else was ever going to fly in combat. I felt immensely proud, but at the same time my gut kicked in. I was also flying a totally unproved, and barely tested airplane. As the Widow headed down the taxi-way for takeoff, I hailed Pixy.

"I'm nervous about this plane Pixy."

"Ah, don't worry Cipher. Just be patient out there and she'll hold up. Hopefully."

"Crossing my fingers, Pixy. Buzzard, are you guys rolling yet?"

"Roger Cipher. We're right behind you."

The Widow slowed to a halt at the end of the runway.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting immediate takeoff, runway 27, over."

"You are clear for launch Galm 1," the tower responded in the usual fashion.

I gave the turbofans the juice and the Red Widow stormed down the runway and vaulted into the air. The damn thing made 35,000 feet in less than 10 seconds on full burn.

We formed up about a mile away from Valais and continued on to Solis Ortus.

* * *

-May 5, 1995 1900 hrs-

We arrived at Solis Ortus armed and ready for some heavy lifting. We were the only units in the air besides the 122nd's C-130's. We were in front of the formation of Hercules as Halo took up their position in front of us. They were first in on this operation, and had to perform perfectly to complete it without any losses.

"Buzzard to all units, commencing attack, over."

"Roger Halo 1, Galm Team is standing by,"

The XL's dispersed as dove for the turf. The squadron immediately launched Mavericks on the first group of AA guns in the valley and it immediately wiped them out.

"First target area's out of commission," Vixen called.

"Roger," Buzzard said, "Moving on."

They moved on to the next area. The C-130's were now entering the drop zone, and released a flurry of paratroopers in their wake. It was an unreal sight.

"They're some brave guys, those Airborne troops, I'll give them that," Pixy said.

"Yeah, no way I could do that."

The IFF then starting squawking.

"We got company," Eagle Eye called for the first time, "Several fast-movers. Looks like they are on intercept course for Halo team. Galm Team, find them and destroy them ASAP."

"With pleasure," I retorted.

I pushed the Red Widow higher, up to about 37,000 feet and on super-cruise to get to the fast-movers.

"Pixy you got a visual?"

"Negative….Wait! Positive ID! Got seven falcons closing in at 10 o'clock low. Another wave behind them probably about 10 minutes out. Looks like a group of Tigersharks."

"Roger, Pixy. Who you want to play with?"

"I'm on the 20's. You take the 16's."

"Alright, Disperse and Special Weapons are green."

"Copy, engaging targets."

I turned the bird and put the Widow on the six o'clock high of the Falcons. I moved directly over them and rolled the 23, and pushed her down at about a 75 degree angle of attack. I throttled up in the dive and switched on the master arm. The 16's were flying in a V formation, so I decided to hit the lead elements first to scatter the lower ranks. I locked up my AMRAAMs and let four Slammers loose from the pylons. The missiles screamed towards the Belkan fighters and the number 1, 2, and 3 planes were immediately out of commission. The fourth had made an emergency maneuver and was redirecting the other planes up against me. But, by that time I had climbed back up, and was out of sight.

"Buzzard! Update me! How's it shaking?"

"We're good. Almost done with second target area. Should we engage optional targets?"

"Negative! Save the ordinance! The airborne will take care of it."

"Roger."

I had the Red Widow back up at about 27,000 feet, and I repositioned for another sweep. They were already climbing back up to meet me, so I decided to meet the Falcons head on. I was already diving at Mach 1.4, so I knew they couldn't catch up once I passed through their formation. They were organized in a box-4, where they were aligned vertically and horizontally next to each other, so that any plane could split off and engage a passing target.

Clever Belkans.

I locked up the sidewinders and readied on the trigger for the Vulcan. As soon as I entered range I let loose with cannon fire, and managed to bag the top-right bogie. I let a staggered salvo of two sidewinders out and got the top-left and bottom-right bogies. I only had one left to play with as I zoomed through the remains of the formation. The last Falcon was already on my tail and pushing. Cannon fire was already coming at me, thick and fast. I decided to gain more altitude since I knew I could outrun him. I throttled up and hit 85 degrees, max climb. The burners were giving me all the juice I needed as the Falcon slowly started to fall behind. I reversed and dove down after him, but he saw my moves and did the same, but now I had him. I closed the distance to him, and held my fire. He was weaving all over the place. I knew the missiles wouldn't be able to get him, so I had to close in even more. I throttled up and I was sitting about 300 m off his tail. The guy wouldn't give up though, and still was giving me a hard enough time just to stay on his tail. Left, right, left, down, up, left, right. All over the damn sky.

"Pixy, sit-rep."

"I bagged my birds. How's it going?

"Got all of them except one," I said making another hard left turn, "This one's giving me a rough time. Mind distracting him a little?"

"Sure, I'm en route."

I kept on the Falcon as I saw Pixy's Eagle closing in on my rear-view. He accelerated past me, and dove low and right to try and get the Falcon to chase. The Belkan took the bait and was caught.

"Fox 2!"

My sidewinder snaked out from it's internal holding bay and scored a direct hit. I climbed in formation with Pixy to 35,000 feet.

"Double E, how's it looking?"

"Ground targets are history. Halo's RTB-ing as we speak. We do have another flight of fighters inbound coming from the North."

"How many?"

"Looks like four of them," the AWACS controller sounded off.

"Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Think so, these signatures are different than the usual grunts. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Roger Eagle Eye, moving to intercept."

We banked right and headed due North to intercept the bad guys. I looked down at the radar screen and almost saw myself back in B7R. I recoiled at the thought, and immediately called Pixy.

"I think it's another one, Pixy."

"Another what?"

"Ace squadron."

"You serious?"

"Yeah. They look similar to the B7R readings we got for the Rot squadron."

"Well, it's good thing Halo's already out."

"You said it."

We continued on, and eventually got close enough for a visual. Four Green F-18's coming in hot, at 12 o'clock low, about 20,000 feet.

Oh, brother!

"That's Grun! Just our rotten luck!" I yelled beating my fist against the canopy. An angry scowl grew on my face. At this point, I thought, enough is enough! "Let's show them they picked a fight with the wrong guys!"

"You got it Cipher!"

We dove down to met the Hornets and went at them without any mercy. They scrambled and went in all directions. I went after the lead and gave him no room for error. The Hornet was struggling to keep away from my Widow's gun, and eventually it found the mark. I streaked the tracers up the fuselage and cut the engines out. The pilot quickly bailed. I immediately climbed, then reversed and stall-dived to start a cutting attack. I managed to grab the number three which had followed me up, with a Slammer. I quickly turned off to the right and went after the plane on Pixy's tail, the number two. I closed in on him and gave him a radar spike. The Green Hornet quickly dove out of the way, and I gave chase.

"Six is clear."

"Roger. Thanks."

I continued the chase and kept the pressure on the Hornet. I closed in using the same method as I did on the number one.

The gun was the be-all and end-all.

I opened fire at the golden range, about 300 meters, and gave him a full flurry of 20mm hail. The Hornet rocked and swayed with the fire, and eventually was enough to get him to spiral down, and out of control. Pixy had gotten the number four, and the skirmish was over. We had now bagged two entire Belkan Ace squadrons.

"Not bad for a day's work Pixy?"

"Cipher, if it keeps going like this, we're going to be immortals. I can see it now, us two, in the pantheon of the great pilots."

"That's the only thing I'm afraid of," I said with a laugh, and Pixy laughed right along with me. "Eagle Eye, are we clear?"

"Roger Galm 1, all targets are confirmed destroyed, you are clear to RTB, over."

"Roger Eagle Eye, we're going home."

I checked the rear-view mirror to see if death was riding there. He wasn't. Not today.


	7. Chapter 7: A Reaper Is Born

_"Yeah, though I fly through the valley of the shadow of death... I fear no evil ... for I fly the biggest, baddest, meanest, fastest fighter in the whole valley."_

_-Anonymous-_

* * *

Ch.7 A Reaper Is Born

-May 13, 1995 approx 1700hrs-

No sooner had we gotten to the ground, did we learn the liberation of Ustio was to be the next day. Operation Constantine. The airborne had opened a huge hole towards Directus, and the fruit was ripe for the picking. We were immediately briefed and launched at noon on liberation day, and were anxious to get the job done. Especially Vixen and myself, being Ustians, wanted our homeland out of the battle-zone as quickly as humanly possible, so the carnage would no longer able to harm our families.

We were flying in formation at 35,000 feet en route to Directus from the South following the Crescere River. Pixy and I led the group, and Halo Team was a few hundred meters behind in a finger-four. Vixen and I had painted big Ustian flags on the underside of our planes, so that the people on the ground knew we were at last, coming home. The great black, red, and white flag gave me a sense of pride, mainly in myself, and my friends. We had turned this war around, and soon my home was going to be free again.

"Finally, we're doing it Cipher," Vixen said over the comm.

"I know, it's been too long already. It's going to feel good when this is done."

"Alright everyone, this is AWACS Eagle Eye. I've marked the targets on the scope. The assault will commence shortly, at 1715."

"Roger Double E. Preparing to engage," I said as I toggled the master arm, as the weapons board lit up in front of me in the Widow's cockpit. "Alright, to keep each other safe, we're going to split the forces up. Vixen, Zero, Rainman, you're with me. Buzzard, Lobo, you're with my pal Pixy over there."

The planes re-organized themselves in the sky, and I was now leading a finger-four formation.

"Target are aligned right along the river, and in the city center," I said looking over the radar layout.

"Roger," Zero called, "Want us to engage separately?"

"That's an affirmative," I said looking out in front of the Widow, just catching the skyline of the city, "Gives the gunners a harder to hit target. You guys go nuts, and I'll keep the fighter cover off of you."

"Don't slack off, Cipher," Rainman said stoically, "This shit is getting serious. We're going to need your help."

"Really, only now? Just do your job Rainman, I got ya."

About a mile out of Directus, I gave the call for watch synch.

"Alright, ready for mark. 3, 2, 1, mark!" I clicked my watch and we were now ready. "For Ustio!"

A chorus of yells came in over the radio, and the three grey XL's around me split off to begin their attack runs.

"Eagle Eye, keep me posted on any fighter movement," I called setting my radar for wide range.

"Roger Galm 1, we have something coming in now. Looks to be at your two o'clock, two fast-movers."

"Galm 1 copies, engaging."

I banked right and went after the fighters. As I closed in, I saw the bogies were Mig-29's. I grinned.

Upgrades.

I jinked back on the stick, trying to draw the fighters up after me, giving them a flash of the Ustian flag. They immediately responded by coming after me and launching some of their long range ordinance at me. I continued to climb, the altitude marker on my HUD flashing by at a ridiculous rate. I eventually cut the speed-brake, and the widow shuddered to a halt. The Red Devil then silently fell, and turned to meet the Belkans coming right at it. The gun made its grumbling voice heard, and managed to strike the leading Mig right in the intakes, and put it out of commission. I stormed past the second Fulcrum as he reversed to keep on the chase. I rolled and pulled into a High-G Immelmann turn and was already facing his guns once again. I let a sidewinder go out of the internal bay, and the 29 was quickly vaporized.

"Targets down, Eagle Eye. Sit-rep on operation, over."

"Roger Galm 1, ground attacks and operations are proceeding smoothly. We're also picking up enemy transmission reporting that a HVT is egressing from the combat zone in a Chinook. Location assumed to be near the city center."

"I copy, I'll check it out."

I banked to the right and lined up to pass right over downtown. I had only been to downtown Directus once before. I was 5 years old, and my father and I went to go see the old Dom, which towers high over the city. It's one of the few old symbols of medieval Ustio still standing after a thousand years. In that chapel lies the most famous bell in the whole country, the Freedom Bell, and little did I know it was about to ring for a long time today.

I picked up my monocular from my cubby to the left of my seat, and sighted it. I started scanning Directus from East to West to see if I could catch sight of the helicopter. My eye passed over the main skyscrapers, and towards West side, I saw the double-rotored copter high tailing from the capital. I quickly put the scope away and engaged afterburner to go after it. I selected my Slammers, and put myself right behind him, coming from the East. As soon as I entered range, I let one out, and it darted towards the little speck in the distance. After about three seconds, it made impact, and the Chinook lit up like a firework.

Wonder what the hell they had on that thing, I thought as I wiped my visor off with a cloth. "HVT is down, Eagle Eye."

"Eagle Eye copies, good work Galm 1. We are picking up a emergency request from the ground forces. There's a Warthog strafing the troops over in the hills on the North-East side of town. Can you intercept?"

"Roger Eagle Eye. Are there no other aerial threats on screen?"

"Roger, Galm 1. Scope is confirmed clear, over."

"Galm 1 copies all, proceeding to intercept."

The Warthog was raining depleted uranium lead over some Osean Abrams tanks in the rolling hills. It was rather unopposed in its attack run.

I quickly changed that.

I gave the Widow the juice and performed a Split-S turn, and I was right behind the A-10 in an instant. I fired my 20mm cannon, and managed to score some hits on the bird, but he quickly reacted, turning off to the left, and going low, to try and draw me to the dirt and out of my comfort zone. I didn't give him a chance to do so. A Slammer was released and sent the Warthog down into the Crescere with a big splash.

"Warthog's down, splash one."

I then heard the bell from the Dom ringing loud and clear. The people were fighting back, finally. I could see from the air the Belkan ground troops retreating, chased by mobs of Ustians. They were starting to take over some of the Belkan hardpoints downtown. I made a pass over the city, and I could see them cheering up at my plane. I rocked the wings in reply, and did a barrel roll over the center of the city at Barkhorn square where the capital building was. There was a huge crowd gathered there.

"Hey Vixen! You done?"

"Yeah, we just mopped up, what's up?"

"There's a huge group of Ustians at Barkhorn square, want to make a team pass over?"

"Uh, yeah! I'm coming right now."

She formed up on my right wing, and we leveled out at about a thousand feet to make the pass over the square. We came from the south again, and throttled up right as we hit the edge of downtown, making a sonic boom. The big marble square in the center of town finally came into view.

"Pass then burst!" I ordered

"Roger!"

We gave max power as we passed over the square and the thousands of people in the square were on their feet. We then turned off in our respective directions, and climbed hard into the burst maneuver. The crowd was having a ball. But then, everything changed.

"Galm 1! Eagle Eye here, I'm picking up two more planes on the scope. They're coming in hot from the north, heading 340. Keep your eyes open, Galm."

"Shit! Buzzard, get Halo out! Now!" I shouted over the comm.

"I copy! Guys let's get to the rendezvous!" Halo's number one said as he got his wingmen into formation.

Vixen quickly split off from me, and Pixy immediately took her place.

"Ready to roll buddy?"

"You got it," I said looking at the radar, and I was seeing small specks moving fast from the radar signatures in our direction as my missile alert was going off. Those were long range missiles, and that meant they had some serious firepower, and some serious wings.

"Halo, you better be moving! I'm counting several missiles coming your way!" I ordered.

"I know Cipher, I hear the warning!" Buzzard snapped, "Get your asses in gear guys! We are leaving!"

We easily avoided the missiles with a quick climb and roll over the projectiles. I was livid. How the hell did they miss these bogies? The battle zone was supposed to be clear!

"No use in thinking that way Erich", I muttered to my self as I readjusted my visor and gave myself a knock on my helmet, "You didn't get this far complaining."

We kept on and eventually the Belkan fighters were in view. They were SU-37 Terminators.

"Let's roll," I ordered.

"They picked the wrong guys to mess with!" I heard Pixy reply.

We dove from our vantage point and launched the attack. Directly over the two birds, I fired my gun at the tail plane of the formation, but I made a rare mistake and missed.

Get your head together, Erich!

I dove left and low. I pulled hard back on the stick to climb and keep on the chase. Right as I completed my turn I saw one of the Terminators come right at me, and fire his gun straight into me. A few rounds streaked into my wings, and he quickly climbed off to my right, but at that moment I saw the markings clearly on the Terminator. Yellow lines on the wingtips and tailplanes. This was Gelb squadron, no doubt. One of the best units Belka currently had deployed on the Ustian frontline. They had hundreds of combat sorties, and many kills between them. It was going to be a fight to the death.

I stamped on the brakes and pushed the Widow hard in pursuit. I kept the power on to get up close and personal on him. But then the Terminator unveiled a trick he had up his sleeve. I saw a missile come right off his pylons and straight back at me, with no turn. I was forced to dive under him to avoid the missile.

"Pixy, these guys have reverse-mounted missiles. Be careful!"

"I gotcha buddy!"

I climbed again, at almost a 90 degree angle to tail him again. I launched a Slammer, but again it didn't hit the mark as he rolled and leveled out above me, right as the missile was about to reach him. I closed the gap again, and just as before he fired another reverse mount. I barrel-rolled quickly and the missile shot just over the Widow's belly, and luckily didn't explode at the engine. Guess those heat-hiding stealth intakes saved my life. He dove low and was heading back in the direction of downtown and into the city's skyline. I didn't let him out off my missile lock, and followed him through the buildings. I could hear the roars of the crowds in the streets.

They were cheering….. for me!

An uncontrollable grin appeared, and I howled with joy. I had him! I had this guy!

I soon closed the distance between me and the Gelb, and put him right in the hot seat. I kept my missile lock on, and frequently took shots at him with the cannon to make sure he didn't get away. We were all over the sky, turning ever which way, and it was a merry spectacle.

"Pixy," I shouted while going through another hard G-turn, "You still good over there?"

"We're jousting back and forth. It's…"

I heard a loud knock over the radio, and I was immediately punched out of my placid state.

"PIXY! Talk to me!"

"I'm…ok, buddy."

I turned again after the Terminator, not trying to be distracted by the conversation. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Worry about my wing-man and talk to him, while flying against one of my toughest opponents.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough. I need to go back."

"Alright, just make sure he doesn't get you when you ex-fil."

"That shouldn't be too hard. He's already peeled off and is heading your way."

"Shit. Oh well, at least you're not too bad."

"Yeah, take care of yourself, buddy."

"I'm not dead yet."

"Then make the most of it. This is Galm 2, I'm leaving the combat zone for the rendezvous, over."

"Eagle Eye copies," I heard the AWACS call as we passed through the city's skyline again.

Now I had both to play for. This would be a moment to define myself.

I went to the afterburners as we went out of the city again, into a high degree climb. I let loose with a sidewinder, and the little missile was determined to recompense for all the planes that fell at that Terminator's hands. The Gelb turned hard to my right out of the climb, but this time he had jumped too early. The sidewinder followed him cleanly through the maneuver. I saw the white contrail make it to the Belkan fighter and impacted off its left wing. I came up right behind the wreck as it spiraled out of the air, and a ejector seat rocketed out of the bird's brain.

Right at that moment, as I relished the kill, I looked in the rear-view mirror. Death was right behind me today. The other Gelb had seized the opportunity. He had gotten on my tail and fired his cannon straight and true. The shots penetrated through the Widow's hull, and a ricochet of one of the cannon shots went right through my left elbow.

"Oh crap! Crap, crap, CRAP!"

I couldn't control my muscles as I slumped forward against the stick. I slowly glanced over at my left arm, and there was a hole right in the middle of my elbow, about the size of a quarter coin. The Widow was falling rapidly at about 600 mph, and I knew I had to get back up. The pain was absolutely excruciating. Every inch I moved, felt like a mile. I rammed myself up in the ejection seat. I grabbed the stick tight with my right hand, and centered myself to get in-line with the HUD. Right at that instant, I lost all of the feeling of pain and of fear. I was ready to finish this fight. The other Gelb Terminator was circling above me at about twenty thousand feet at my 7 o'clock. I screamed in pain as I forced the Widow over that in direction. The girl wasn't going to let me down, and I wasn't going to let her down. I couldn't let my friends down. I couldn't let Pixy down.

The Gelb was clueless to the fact that I was even still up. In a strange coincidence, my misfortune was a great benefit. I turned the knob for my missile salvo setting to jettison. I was going to fire everything I had left at him. He would have no idea what him. I closed in. I was going to fire as near to him I could. I was only about 2000 feet out when I depressed the button for the missiles on the stick. Three Slammers shot out from the internal bay, along with a single sidewinder. The Gelb finally realized his plight, and desperately tried to evade, but it was too late. He managed to avoid the first Slammer, but the next one erased the space where his engines were. The Terminator went into a flat spin, where the next missile impacted into the nose. The cockpit then detached, and moved up and over the fuselage. The last missile, the sidewinder, then finished off the airframe at the rear. Right where the cockpit was now was gliding over. The warhead exploded, catching the remaining fuel alight, and it shattered the separated cockpit into pieces. In an slowed frame of time, I saw the body of the Gelb, of a fellow pilot, vanish in the explosion, right before my eyes. It was a haunting sight.

I leveled the Red Widow at about 32,000 feet out over Directus. I detached my oxygen mask, and turned my head up to the heavens, where the night was beginning to show itself. I caught glimpses of the stars, and I cried. I wasn't crying tears of joy. I was crying tears of sorrow. What I had done had been deserved, but in my mind it was also cruel. To die in such a way was a true evil and misfortune. I didn't want to die like that, my body erased over some wasteland. I didn't want my name to come home in a letter to my family as M.I.A. or K.I.A.. It was at this time my mind shifted. I no longer wanted to kill. Shoot down, yes. But blatantly kill, no. I was angry for what they did, but I would of done the same thing in their shoes. We were all people. There was no reason for all this.

I popped my visor up, and I wiped the tears from my eyes with my right hand. The adrenaline was starting to wear off as the pain from my left arm came rushing back. It hurt. Oh god, it hurt.

"Eagle Eye can you hear me?" I called quietly.

"Yeah Cipher. I hear you."

"I just wanted to ask something, what's your name?" I asked solemnly.

"Huh?"

"I never heard what your name was. I never really ever thought to ask before."

"Oh. It's Ed. Lieutenant Ed Rodgers."

"Good to meet you Ed. I've been shot through the arm, and I need to get back. Is Directus safe?"

"That's a roger, Cipher. Ready to go home?"

"More than ever. I need a rest."

"You sure as hell earned it. I'll catch you later."

"See you around Ed."

I banked the Widow to the south, and I headed back to Valais. I formed up with the guys about 15 miles out of the city. Halo Team were quick to voice their congratulations. None of them had heard about what had happened to me.

"Dude! You kicked some serious ass, man!" Lobo shouted with glee over the radio.

"Yeah!" Buzzard called, "You showed those Belkan pigs the what for!"

Pixy slowly positioned his Eagle back in formation next to me, and immediately saw the damage.

"Cipher! You okay? Are you hit?"

"There's a good size hole right through the bone and the muscle in my left elbow, it's clean though, I think. Not much blood. It's kind of weird that I can stick my finger through my arm now."

"Erich! Are you ok?" Vixen said her voice quavering.

"Yeah, it's just a little war wound."

"Damn it Erich! That doesn't sound like nothing!" She shouted angrily.

"Well, let's just get home alright?"

We all hit the throttle and got on our way.

* * *

-Later that night May 13, 1995 2300 hrs-

"Jeez! Take it easy Lothar!"

"I'm trying!" My mechanic spat back as he helped me out of my harnesses. Everyone was gathered around the Red Widow. They were all trying to see what had happened to their invincible ace. Lothar finally got me out of the saddle and, this surprised me, he carried me out of the plane by himself. He got me over to the waiting ambulance and helped the medics get me into a litter. "That better?"

"Yeah," I jided with a small grin, "Thanks."

The ambulance sped off to the field hospital on opposite side of the runway from the hangars, which now that I saw it up close, it was huge. The medics rushed me inside. As they rolled me to operation, the head doctor came over, some some spook called Dr. Richter, and after a look at the wound, told me I was going to need amputation. I was going to lose my left fore-arm and most of the elbow. I was really angry, I kept shouting at them to find a better alternative. I tried to get up multiple times from the litter to try and make a run for it, but they kept pushing me down onto the litter. I kept asking for them to find some other way, but Richter shot all hopes down. He repeated that it was too late, and the infection was going to be fatal if it wasn't done. I had no choice. I tried again to fight back, but they knocked me out with anesthesia.

* * *

-Several hours later-

I opened my eyes, and I was blinded by the bright lights of whatever room I was in. Well not a room, it looked more like I was in a hangar. I readjusted myself in the cot, and lied back with my right arm and left stump, which was in a sling, above the covers. I realized I couldn't twiddle my thumbs anymore.

"Just when you had the going good Erich, you fool. You just, HAD, to find a home in the Air Corps!" I muttered angrily to myself.

I looked over to my right at the nightstand. On it was my black-leather flight jacket, and my uniform. I could see the holes in the middle of the left sleeves on both of them. I winced at that. All around me I could hear voices, but I couldn't see where they were coming from since there were blinds surrounding my little area.

A couple of minutes later, Richter came back in. He pulled up a chair at the front of my bed and sat down. I looked around again at the blinds and shook my head. Guess being invincible was a priceless image for the troops.

"How are you feeling Herr Hauptmann?"

"Not too great, considering you just chopped my arm off!" I shouted angrily.

"Please Herr Hauptmann!" he quietly replied back, "Keep your voice down, there are many others here who need rest desperately."

I gave myself a mental slap and asked, "I'm sorry, Doctor. How many do you have here that you watch over?"

He sighed. I finally got a good look at him. He had a pale, oval face, and extremely white hair, that surprisingly hadn't fell out. It was neatly trimmed. He took off his thin rimmed glasses, and stared right at me with his green eyes.

"About 350."

"What? I had no idea there were this many here at Valais," I replied quietly.

"We are over-encumbered by the load. Unfortunately, right now, with Directus still considered on red alert, we are the only confirmed safe location for the Ustian wounded. The hospital is desperately low on supplies, we haven't had a restock in two weeks. We barely had enough medicine and gear to save your life."

I let out a deep breath.

"Thank you, Dr. Richter. I apologize for my behavior earlier. I can only imagine what you have to go through everyday. And please call me Erich."

"Your welcome, Erich. I have some people here to see you. Are you up for some visitors?"

"If it's my squadron mates, then yes," I answered giving a sly smile.

"Alright Erich, I'll let them in."

He quietly went through the dividing curtains again, and I heard a voice in the distance say, It's alright. There was a chorus of boot steps pounding in the ground, and they quickly made it to me. Pixy came through first, and told the others to wait. He grabbed the chair at the front of the bed and brought it over to the right side of the cot, and took a seat. He looked over where my left arm used to be, and winced.

"You alright, buddy?"

"I'm not dead yet."

I held my only hand up and he grabbed it.

"Good, we still have a war to finish."

"I doubt they're going to ever let me up in the air again," I moped, "Guess my days are finished here."

"Hate to disappoint you, but you're going to be back in line soon. There's no reserves left. We are all the Ustians have got. I heard they're getting a new interceptor squadron together, but they won't be ready for another month. So, you're still in command."

I sighed, "When's the next operation?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Just go ahead and tell me. I hate people hiding things from me."

"About three days."

"WHAT?!"

"Yup. The invasion of Belka has already begun. They sent in the Stratofortresses a few hours ago to hit the border defenses. "

"Mein Gott," I muttered.

"Well buddy, I'll leave you now. The others really want to see you."

He quietly walked out and the gang came in, immediately shocked by what they saw. I gave them a whole description of the dogfight, and what had happened at the field hospital. They were amazed at what I had survived, and they weren't the only ones. A newspaper from Directus had been forwarded to us by some of the ground crew, and it was the latest edition of the Ustian Belde. The front headline read,

DER ROTE USTIAN TEUFEL(THE RED USTIAN DEVIL)

Underneath it was me in the Red Widow destroying the last plane of the Gelb. The article talked about the whole operation from the people's perspective. Several citizens had said that I was the greatest Ustian hero ever. I chuckled at that, and I tucked it under the covers of my bed. We chatted for a few more minutes, and eventually they all said their goodbyes and left to get some shut-eye. Except for Vixen.

She sat in the chair where Pixy was before. She silently stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she stammered, blushing ever so slightly.

"Come on, Vicki, something's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me, you should be more worried about yourself."

"I'm fine. I'm all fixed up now. I'll be flying within the week."

"No you're not, you lost an arm! You could of been killed! There's no way you can fly now!" she stammered and shouted at me.

"So you were worried about me!" I chuckled.

She sighed, "Yeah, I was. So what? We watch out for each other. That's what we always do. It's the creed."

"I know. Today really tested me. I even cried after it was all done."

"Why?"

"We've tarnished this world with conflict. The world's foundations are set by conflict. Without war, our modern society can't exist. It just pains me that we need war to change things now. It's like that old saying, Osea's always been at war with Yuktobania."

"Yeah. It's a shame Erich. You'd think these countries fight for real reasons, but in the end it's all a game. They throw our lives away for things that will never affect out lives. It only affects the top guys, who make money off our blood."

"We're forced to fight our former brothers. I can't stand the thought. Some of my friends who I flew with as a kid, could be on the other side of me in the air, and I'll never know it."

"Unfortunately Erich, there's nothing we can do about it. We even volunteered to do this work."

"I didn't volunteer for this hypocrisy. Well, I'm done talking about that. Depresses the hell out of me."

"I know, you didn't get this far complaining," she softly laughed as a small smile appeared on her pale face.

I looked over at Vixen and she was just looking at me, and I was just looking right back at her. Her blue eyes were as bright as the summer sky, and were remarkably clear. She had grown her blonde hair out a little and had it in a pony-tail now, and it looked nice on her. I smiled at Vixen. She smiled back.

"Do you mind staying? I'm still a bit on edge." I asked her.

"Of course not," she said as she held onto my only remaining hand.

I lied back in the cot and closed my eyes. I needed to get some sleep. It was only getting worse from here.

**Glossary:**

**Dom: German for Cathedral. **

**Barkhorn Square: Reference to Gerhard Barkhorn, the second most successful ace of all time, who scored 301 kills on the Eastern Front with the Luftwaffe during WWII. He also flew with "The Black Devil" himself, Erich Hartmann.**

**You had to find a home in the Air Corps!: A reference to a recurring joke in Battleground(1949). The line goes,  
**

**"[while being bombarded by German artillery during a driving blizzard] **

**Holley(played by Van Johnson) :We've had good deals before, but this is the best one yet. This is great. I don't ever wanna go back. I found a home in the army."**

**Osea's always been at war with Yuktobania: Reference to the famous line in George Orwell's_ 1984_. "We've always been at war with Eastasia."**


	8. Chapter 8:Understanding Shadows

_"I fly close to my man, aim well and of course he falls down."_

_Hauptmann Oswald Boelcke, the father of modern air tactics and combat_

* * *

Ch. 8 Understanding the Shadows On the Wall

-May 14, 1995 Valais Air Base Field Hospital-

I woke up in my cot with Vixen still asleep at my side. She had her head on the bed, and the chair was scooted up to the right of the bed, so she could do that. My flight jacket covered her back.

I shook my head, and tried to push myself up. Doing so with one good hand was really hard. I almost fell off the bed twice. After about ten minutes of pure struggle I was sitting up on the left side of the bed. I firmly planted my feet on the ground, and stood up. It felt nice to be on my feet again. I walked around to the right side of the bed, and I saw my uniform lying there on the nightstand. I picked it up and tried to put it on, but to no avail. My pants were a disaster lying around my ankes, and my shirt was an equal loss. I could barely get the first button finished.

"Shit," I said quietly, "That's annoying."

I continued to try to get my stuff on, but I was making enough noise to where I woke Vixen up with my stumbling.

"Urhh?" she grumbled as her eyelids popped open. She looked up at me and recoiled in shock. "Erich? Aren't you supposed to…?"

"Probably. Don't care though. We have a sortie in three days, and I need to get reacquainted with the Widow, since I have this," I said as I pointed to my half of a left arm. "And, I kind of need some help. With this."

"Oh, here. I'll help you put it on."

She walked behind me, and pulled my pants up so I could fasten them. She then came around to the front of me, and helped me button my dress shirt. She then took my jacket off of her back and threw it over my shoulders. It felt nice and warm. I could almost go back to sleep. She then got my shoes, and helped tied them for me. God, am I helpless, I thought to myself.

"That better?" she asked with a feint smile.

"Yes," I sighed, "As I much as I hate to admit it, I'm totally helpless now."

She laughed softly at that, "Let's get you going then, shall we?"

"Yeah, I think it's time to go."

I tightened the jacket around me, and stepped out into the world, out of my hidey-hole, to see a new truth. All around me were wounded soldiers, lying on cots, from wall to wall in a big tiled hangar. Some of them had it much worse than I did. Burned off faces, missing legs, endless comas were all at home here. It absolutely appalled me. The stench was the worst part, a intermittent flood of alcohol, blood, rotting meat, and straw all rolled into one. The tile floor was covered in excrement, literally. Vixen just hung her head in shame as we walked between the cots. The soldiers all stirred when they saw I was there. They rose up from their woe and cheered for glory and future victories. I held my hands up in thanks.

"I thank you for your kind words, because I am in you shoes now," I said as I rolled up the left sleeve of the dress shirt and my coat to reveal my stump, "I know I must keep going, and I will, for you all. To be able to survive this horror, is beyond me. You all should have won my Cross, for this kind of bravery is greater than all others. Unfortunately I must go, but I will return, for all of your sake's."

The wounded that could manage to sit up could, and saluted. I returned it firmly, for the first time in my life. I wasn't fighting for glory, freedom, or the Fatherland. I found something to fight for. I would fight for them. It boggled my mind that these men were abandoned once they were wounded. I wanted to give them some hope that they would recover. I hoped my situation would give them strength to do the same as I did. I would be their symbol.

I walked out of the hospital to a chorus of cheers. There was a single chant that started to rise among the wounded.

"Er ist der Rot Piloten! Er ist! Er ist!"(He is the Red Pilot! He is! He is!)

I smiled at that. The fact that I inspired them, gave me a great sense of pride. I turned back to face them one last time at the door of the big infirmary. I gave them another salute and said,

"As your Red Pilot, you are my Gryphons! The most powerful of all the creatures, masters of land and air! Remember brothers, when I fly in the heavens, I fight for you!"

A sounding 'Huzzah!' came back to me and I gave them a wave. We headed outside back into the cruel world of politics and war. Back into a perpetual meat grinder, chewing every man to pieces.

"They are the strongest men I've ever seen," I said to Vixen as we were now outside in the frigid air of the mountains. The frigid winds felt good for once in my life. I thanked God for having been born with legs. Losing a limb makes you thankful for that.

"I know. I could hardly imagine what their days are like," the fellow Ustian responded, and she brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Be glad you don't have to."

"I am glad, trust me!" she said with a laugh as we headed over to the Galm hangar. We actually crossed over the huge tarmac runway on our way there. On foot, it seemed like the widest road ever created. How small it seemed from a bird's eye view.

We reached the hangar, and Lothar was busy filling holes in the Red Widow's fuselage. As we headed inside of the team hangar, I noticed a new addition to the Widow. Under the cockpit was a big golden number 40, surrounded by golden oak clusters, sitting behind my white Maltese Knight's cross.

"What's that Lothar?"

He turned to the sound of my voice and dropped his kit. He ran over and gave me a big hug. I gave him a big one in return.

"Mein gott(My God), man, I thought you were a goner after I heard about the amputation. How bad is it?"

"Not bad enough to stop."

"Well, that's a relief. I was worried about who I was going to give this bucket of bolts to if you were gone."

I slapped him on the head as he walked back to the Red Widow laughing. He stood next to the golden 40 with a great sense of pride.

"It was my idea, like the markings of Schnitter's and Mesuitz's 109's. I figured you would like it."

I came over and took a good look at it. I smirked at that number. 40 kills! I was almost at Schnitter's record of 60.

"I do like it, thanks for holding on for me, you clever son of a gun!"

"Eh, the shit I have to put up with you!" he said as he patted me on the back.

I turned around to find Pixy and the rest of the Halo guys there standing alongside Vixen. The rest of the them looked relieved. The bags under their eyes illustrated their lost sleep to me. They came over and I received a lot of hugs and sympathies. I was grateful for them, and I decided to repay it. This idea had been lingering in my mind ever since the Futuro incident when we lost Tiger. I felt I had a duty to protect my friends, and I felt this option was the only way to guarantee that.

"I've been thinking, guys. And there's something I want to do."

"Huh?" Buzzard replied, his brow furrowing, "What are you talking about?"

"I want all of you to be put in Galm."

"Why? Isn't it fine now?"Lobo retorted.

"Yeah, but I don't want anyone pulling rank on me in the future, and pulling you guys away from me."

"You have a point," Zero quietly spoke, "The more this becomes a joint operation, the chances of that event occurring increases. If we all operate together in the same unit, we should be better off, and more independent."

"You ok with it, Pixy?"

"I don't see any harm in it, what the hell, why not?" he spoke with a warm tone.

"So we all concur. Come on. Let's get it done."

Fifteen minutes later, it was official. Chennault cleared the five members of Halo squadron to officially enter Galm Team. Buzzard would still command the second echelon, but I still held ultimate authority. I was happy with this development, and they were too, since they got their new flight jackets to match, and we would share the hangar. I was happy that I could spend more time with my friends.

* * *

-Next Day May 15, 1995 0830-

I was in my room in GHQ. It was nice to be alone for a little while and catch up. I finally got back into my light reading, Dante's Inferno to be exact, which I was really enjoying. I had filled out my flight log from the beginning of the war up to this point, which I had decided to neglect. It took me about 5 hours to do it, and I went an extra mile to document the entire sorties, with ordinance expended, and planes shot down. The count matched the 40 Lothar had painted.

Thank god, I thought, If he had to do that again...

There was a loud knocking on my door.

"Come in, it's open."

Pixy came storming in, panting heavily.

"Pixy? What the hell's going on?"

"The chancellor! He's…here!"

"What?!"

"You heard me!"

"Christ!" I said as I bolted up from my cot, and attempted to get into my uniform.

"You are one helpless guy, you know that!" Pixy snickered as helped me put it on since I was still struggling with getting clothes on by myself.

"Shut up!" I remarked back as I put my crusher hat on.

"Come on!" He sprinted out of the room, and I followed him in hot pursuit. We rushed out of the front door of the headquarters into the barely-above zero weather. At least it was sunny, for whatever the hell this was for.

Eventually, I saw an orderly formation of everyone on base facing a podium over on the hangar line. On this podium, stood the Defense Minister Heinrich Graf, who had sent me my commission letter no later than a month ago. In person, he was rather short and frail, but had strong cheekbones, and face that looked like it was made of steel. His cold blue eyes pierced anyone who came to him. He wore a field grey marshall's uniform with a peak cap, and I absolutely stand by the fact that he was made for that uniform. I had no doubt many would follow him to wherever the fight was. Next to him was the Chancellor, Augustus von Lehmann. He was much unlike the stone-cold soldier that Graf was. He was rounded in stature and stood much taller than the Defense Minister. He wore a black suit, signifying his political stature, and it matched his matte black hair, that was clean cut and cropped with absolutely no facial hair. He fit his aristocratic name to the letter.

As I finally neared the procession, the base's personnel snapped to attention, and I was left in total shock. I had no idea what to do. I had never been in one of these ceremonies before.

Going to have to punt on this one, I thought.

I walked forward and turned to the left at attention to face the podium at its center. I snapped my heels, and produced a salute. The men and women behind me followed suit. The two men on the podium surrounded by armed MP's returned the gesture. I slowly walked up to the podium and climbed the steps to the haven of gods and generals. They were standing only a few feet in front of me. The men that ruled this country were right there. I gulped.

I saluted again, and then snapped once more to attention. One by one, Pixy, Buzzard, Vixen, Lobo, Rainman, and Zero, all came up to the podium copying my move. Vixen now wore a uniform similar to mine. I glanced over at her out of the corner of my eye, and I winked. She produced a smile winked back.

"Now, we can begin the ceremony," Graf boomed from the podium, "These brave pilots before me, the most gallant warriors of Ustio, have fought selflessly for our cause. They are here today, standing on this stage to be recognized for their bravery in the line of duty over our sacred capital."

Hell, I thought, for all of us, Ustio wasn't really our land. Vixen and I, technically speaking if you go by the dates, but the others had no link to Ustio at all. They were here for the money. Speaking of which….

"As a result of his actions over the skies of Directus, and for being the first supersonic fighter pilot to achieve forty kills," the minister continued, "Hauptmann Erich Voller has been promoted to the rank of Major, and is awarded the Military Order of Maria Teresa, the highest honor that Ustio can bestow upon a military officer."

The minister came up to me with a small black velvet box. He popped it open, and it revealed a little white Maltese Cross, with the Ustian flag in the center of it. The neck ribbon was black and white. He picked it up and folded the box away in his pocket. Graf held the medal up by the neck ribbon and I lowered my head. He slowly draped it on me, and it now rested on my shoulders. He held out his hand, and I took hold, and a rock hard grip greeting it.

"Good work Major."

"Thank you, Herr Marschall," I replied giving a salute.

He went down the line giving Military Merit Crosses to the rest of the group. Vixen was finally granted her honorary Ustian officer's commission as a First Lieutenant. She deserved it. After the medal pinning was done, I was instructed to show my plane to the big men. It was then I discovered, that I didn't like the Chancellor very much.

"Again I'm surprised Major, I did not expect you pilots to be so young, many of the great pilots in the air are much older than you," the Chancellor voiced with an air of arrogance, as we walked down to the far end of the hangar line. That alone was enough to inflame my temper, but I held it back.

"Flying teaches you two things, Chancellor. You must keep an open mind, and be very mentally strong. We young-lings have those qualities ten-fold over the normal pilots. It's how we survive."

"Hmm. I see your point," he spoke punctually, "I'm very eager to see this plane that I've heard so much about."

I could almost hear the grimaces of the rest of the guys, Pixy included. Something was definitely wrong or up with this guy. Even the Oseans weren't into this much play-acting. Minister Graf was surprisingly silent too.

"You'll see it soon enough," I quietly muttered to myself.

Eventually we reached the hangar, cleared of the normal crews. The Red YF-23 sat at the front of the hangar taking a well-deserved rest. She looked her best today, with new coats of stealth paint now coating her glossy wings. I smiled at the sight of her. The Chancellor was eager to hear about the plane, and he walked in front of me. The politician bee-lining towards the Widow, as soon as we reached the team dugout.

"So this is it, Major?"he asked walking up to the nose of the Red Widow. I stayed back at the entrance of the hangar, the rest of us including Graf were behind me, watching intently.

"Yes it is."

"What model is it? I've never seen a plane like this before!" he said as he reached to touch the nose.

"That's close enough!" I barked. He was ignorant enough to not see or smell the wet paint. That's definitely not a good sign. "There's a new coat of radar absorbent paint on her. No touching."

"Oh, I apologize Major," he said keeping up his strange eerily-happy facade. "So, what plane is this?"

"It's classified, to answer your question."

"Excuse me?" he responded as if I had insulted his mother.

"Uh, classified, as in, I can't say what kind of plane that is."

"Why not? I'm the highest authority of the Ustian government!" the politician affirmed, his temperament finally breaking through the strong facade, "I have a right to know!"

"I have not received any orders stating that anyone stationed outside of the base may know about the plane, sir. This plane here was issued by the General Staff of Osea themselves. They came in person to deliver it. So, again, it's classified intelligence, sir. You're too low on the international totem pole. In fact you should be grateful that you've even seen it in person!" I taunted.

"Major! You will tell me…."

"That's enough!" Graf finally interceded, to my relief, "I'm terribly sorry for the Chancellor's attitude. He's had a rough day. He needs to be headed back now, to Directus. I will meet up with you a little later Major. Dismissed."

We all snapped to attention, and the pair walked away.

I was so afraid of that going bad, that I fell to the floor in exhaustion. Pixy quickly rushed over and helped me back up.

"You alright buddy?"

"Yeah, this is getting weird, Pixy. The more this goes on, the less I actually know what's going on."

"You said it," Buzzard replied, "That guy's got some issues."

"Or someone's pulling the strings," Zero replied.

"What are you talking about Zero?" I inquired giving the unknown pilot a funny look.

"It seemed there were anterior motives for this visit. Whoever's running the show doesn't like whatever we have going here. We're dictating the pace of the war. So the puppet-master sent the puppet to gather info."

"Zero, how do you know that?" Lobo asked.

"Ask Rainman," the mysterious pilot answered.

"Rainman, what is he going on about? Do you really know what's happening?" Vixen questioned.

Rainman sighed heavily and stared at the ground. He was silent for a good minute, and he scratched his head. Then, he looked back up at us, and stared right at me.

"What?" I asked the Emmerian royal.

"I do know."

"Know what?"

"What's really happening."

"Alright then, Mr. Prince, " Buzzard cried, "Spill the beans for us, eh?"

"Ok. But we have to go back. To the Osean war, 50 years ago."

* * *

As much as people might think it doesn't exist, royal influence is still pertinent to this day in the Belkan War just as it was before. There are several main factors that drove the Old Osean War forward. The Ralds that dominated Belka at that time were a collection of powerful aristocratic families, industrialist businessmen, and politicians, who are determined to eliminate foreign control in Belka. A good cause if you think about it, right? A country wants to control itself, and is tired of being manipulated. That's how the Osean War began. The Ralds drove a blade right through the world's hierarchy and forced themselves to the top by eliminating money and bond manipulation in Belkan businesses and markets. They also eliminated the Osean dollar as being their trade currency, replacing it with their own Belkan Marks. Osea, being the corporate superpower it is, can't have anyone knock them out global control and domination. So they went to war with Belka and almost lost. But, due to their manipulation of goods, resources, and money, they managed to win, and Belka was again subjected to Osea's iron fist.

Fast-forward to now. The Rald party is back. They want to accomplish the same goal. Drive a wedge between Belka and the Osean interests and firms that really hold the axe above their necks. They're desperate for economic upturn to get them out and independent from Osean banking loans. So, what do they do? They use the exact same method as before. They use war as an economic weapon driving up employment and profits. They change over the trade currency and start isolating themselves in means of production. But what the Ralds don't realize is, is that one of their biggest allies is now against them. The Industrialists. They're now controlled by Osean economic interests, particularly defense and raw materials. These mysterious men are aptly named the 'Grey Men'. They can control Belka regardless of the war's result. So now, Belka's on the run again after early successes. Osea wants to stranglehold Belka once more. But this time, I don't think Belka will give up like before. The Grey Men will profit from either outcome of the war. Osean victory though, plays to their favor.

* * *

"Jesus, Rainman," I said astonished, "Where'd you pick up all that?"

"You can overhear a lot of things at royal social functions. World control is one of them. The fact that everyone wants to be included in the Grey Men's circle meant that they're common knowledge in affluent and powerful families."

"Then why'd you join up here?" Vixen asked, "You could of joined those guys and essentially ruled the world according to your story, right?"

"Yeah, it just wasn't for me. My father and I never got along well. He was in with the Osean faction, and disagreed with me over the whole situation. After all, he couldn't lose his bet. He had his name and fortune on the line over it. So, I left home when I turned 18, and I joined the mercenary air corps so it was harder to track where I had gone. Being a soldier without a nation helps."

"What was with your shitty attitude during training?" Buzzard crowed.

The knight frowned, "I was still angry over the whole situation. I knew at that point war with Belka would be inevitable, so I knew I could survive it, since I knew it was coming. Little did I know, the best pilot ever would be training right along side me."

"Rainman," I exclaimed with a grin, "You've won."

"What?"

"Against all of us. You won."

"Why's that?"

"You listen when others speak. You've earned your spot here a thousand times over with what you've told us. And," I walked up to him and held my hand out, "You proved our greatest fears to be correct. So, I'm sorry. For everything, all the shit we gave you."

He shook back. "I forgive you Cipher."

"But I still don't forgive you for Lobo," Buzzard threatened as he went to give Rainman a re-conciliatory fist-bump.

"I know. I still regret what I did that day. But, the forgiveness for our initial meeting is enough solace for me, Buzzard."

We all gave him a slap on the back as we headed back out into the sun's rays.

There was still work to be done. It was just better that we knew what was really going on.

* * *

**PS: The Chapter title is a reference to Plato's Allegory of the Cave. You've never read it? Go do it now!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Red Pilot Speaks

_The duty of the fighter pilot is to patrol his area of the sky, and shoot down any enemy fighters in that area. Anything else is rubbish._

_-Manfred von Richthofen(Der Rot Piloten or The Red Baron)_

* * *

Ch.9 The Red Pilot Speaks

-May 16, 1995 Valais Air Force Base Galm Team Hangar 1000 hrs.-

I was back in the saddle of the Widow for the first time since I was shot down. It was really eerie. I had my black leatherneck jacket on, and I could feel the hole in the left sleeve. I shuddered at the thought of that fight.

"Hey, Erich, you ok?" the young but experienced Lothar called from his station at his equipment to my right.

"Yeah, just hard to put that night out of my mind, you know?"

"I understand, now let's keep going with the reaction tests ok?"

"Sure, sure," I quickly replied. These tests were a necessary pain. I had to be able to hit any button or switch within the cockpit within about five seconds, of course with one arm. The instruments on my far left, especially my non-stick throttle control, were really hard to get to. The plane was electronically 'dead', so we could test any of the buttons for the reaction time. Lothar had the Widow's computer hooked up into a simple desktop that would give an immediate signal when the button was pressed.

"Alright fuel jettison!"

That switch was at the right front side of the cockpit. Easy reach.

"Good, turbine start!"

Shit. That was over behind the throttle control to my 9 o'clock. I leaned to the left a little, and reached over with my right arm and got to the switches.

"Great! Good time, only 3 seconds! Alright toughest one, ejection!"

This was a pain. This Widow, for some stupid reason, had a left-side ejection seat release handle. I had to slump over in my seat, and turn about 90 degrees to face the left of the cockpit. I reached down with my right arm and quickly did a small pull on the black and yellow colored lever.

"Good, five seconds. I think that's enough…" Lothar trailed off as Defense Minister Graf came into the team's hangar, "Sir!"

He snapped to attention and saluted. The minister quickly returned the salute and looked over to me in the saddle. I didn't even bother to salute, and he didn't seem to care.

Fine by me, I thought.

"How's the arm treating you Major?"

"Alright, hasn't killed me yet," I chuckled.

"That's good. I'm sorry for the Chancellor's behavior earlier. He's…having some issues that I can't speak of."

"I haven't even thought of it again, Minister. Don't worry about it."

"Well," he said with a cheeky smile, "seems you are pretty much in shape here! Quite the Adler you have here."

"You got that right! She treats me pretty good," I replied patting my hand on the Knight's Cross on the right side of the cockpit, "What's up with the visit Minister?"

"I have a guest for you today, Major."

"Huh?"

"You came come in now," the Minister said as he turned around and waved.

A girl in a Osean WAC uniform came in, and stood over by the Minister. She looked like she was maybe in her mid-twenties. She had way out of regulation red-hair that went down to her shoulders. Her face was really small, and heavily tanned. She had dull green eyes, and looked to be about 5' 5" at most.

"This is Leutnant Kelly Haslo. She's with the main Osean military newspaper, Stripes &amp; Paladins."

Now that's a stupid name, I thought to myself, unless you're a propagandist.

"She's here to interview you for the big front page story on Galm Team. She's already interviewed everyone else. You're the final member to be interviewed."

I sighed, "Alright, let's get it over with. Lothar come help me out of here."

"Right boss."

He came up the ladder to the plane, and helped me unbuckle from the seat. I put my right arm around his shoulder, and he pushed me to my feet. I took a second to right myself, and eventually went down the ladder.

"I'll leave you to it," the stout Minister said as he walked away from the hangar.

"I need to go to storage Cipher, I'll catch you later," Lothar called as he ran off.

"Sure."

That left me alone with the Osean reporter. If there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's a interview. Civilians just can't understand the pressure we're put under to succeed. If we fail, the whole world is affected. We sometimes have to make choices we don't like. It's part of the job. I took a seat over at the table with the computer on it, and beckoned the reporter to sit at a seat opposite of me. She took the seat and took out a audio recorder and hit one of the buttons on it, I assumed the record button. We were live.

"Now to introduce myself," the frail girl said as she held out her hand, "Kelly Haslo. You can call me Kelly."

"Nice to meet you Kelly, I'm Cipher," I replied as I softly shook back.

"I thought…"

"Just for the record, I don't want my name published. I don't want people chasing me down for the rest of my life to pester me about all this."

"Oh, I understand. Everyone else requested the same thing, except your wingman Larry Foulke."

"Really? That's surprising."

"Why do you say that?" Kelly said as she leaned back in her chair, "He said it was to preserve the record of history."

"Yeah. But sometimes history is meant to be undiscovered. Only the ones who are willing to look both ways through the looking glass will ever understand history. Only those people are worthy to know who I am. Those who are willing to listen to both sides of a story."

She smiled and wrote that down. "You have a good point, Major."

"Thanks. Where do you want to start?"

"The beginning if you could. I want to get an idea of everyone's background so that the reader can understand how all these different people came together to form such a successful team."

"Alright, well that would mean going back to when I was really young."

"What in particular?"

"Well my father was an Me-109 ace during the Osean War in the Belkan Air Force. He scored about 60 kills over the Southern Front. In fact, he actually fought over Valais several times over the course of his career. He was in the Air Force for about five years. He enlisted in '41 when he was seventeen. He lied about his age of course. After the surrender, he was captured in '46 and was in prison in Osea for about, I want to say seven years? Maybe until late '52 or early '53."

"That's a long time," she spoke as she continued to take notes.

"Especially in the hell that was your post-war POW system."

"How so?"

"The prisons were poorly sanitized, the POW's were forced into hard labors in coal mines, and the only possible way for anyone to get out was to injure themselves. That's what my dad did. He broke his arm around a telephone pole in the camp, and they released him a few days later. He walked home all the way from Northern Osea to my family farm in Belka, present day Ustio."

"I can only imagine how long the walk was."

"He hitchhiked, rode freight trains, anything moving he got on to get home. Took a good two months to walk those 500 miles. When he got back to Heinzhollen, he married my mom. I never knew her well. She died when I was only two."

"Was that hard for you?"

"I mean, I wouldn't know unless I could compare my upbringing with what it could of been. In my mind, I don't think so. My dad taught me a lot of good things, and he was hard on me. In a good way. He made sure I wouldn't grow up to be a brat."

"How did you get into flying?"

"Not by my dad's recommendation!" I chuckled. "There's a glider club about 5 minutes from where I live. Some of my friends invited me to come over and try it out. I loved it from my first minutes in the air. After enough talking and promising, my father relented and got me a membership so I could fly there."

"Is there any defining moment from then that you knew this is what you would be doing with your life?"

"Yeah, there is one….."

* * *

-July 14, 1991 Heinzhollen Flying Club, Belka(Present day Ustio)-

"Hey Hans! Get a new battery, this one is fried!" I called out to my fellow flying buddy as I was working away at my glider's insides out on the grassy field of the flying club.

"Ja, Ja! It's always this crappy plane that needs a battery," replied Hans Uleke, a fellow Aryan, blonde haired, blue eyed Belka. He was much shorter than me, but much more muscular. Hans's day-job was working in a cotton plant. He had to carry hundred pound bales of cotton over his shoulders. Hans could do it without even breaking a sweat.

"Ah, the Oseans can never build a plane anyways," I shot back.

"Really, who told you?" Hans retorted from the distance with a hearty laugh.

I went back to my work and got the old battery removed. Hans was already back and had the new one ready for me.

"Here you go," the stocky 16 year old said as he handed me the electric life.

"Danke schurn!" I said mockingly as I placed it in," That should do it. Let's get it of the runway."

"Yeah. I need to go do some work at home."

Gliders are extremely light, but fragile birds. You had to be careful with them. The long wings could easily catch something around you at low altitude, and the absence of an onboard motor(except for very expensive models) and landing gear essentially meant wherever you landed the plane, that's where you were stuck. But it was good fun, and required a decent amount of skill to perfect. We stood behind the massive wings on each side and pushed the plane off the main runway and off into the grass near the control tower. Some other guys were flying this one later so we left it where it was, since it was owned by the club. We walked to the main building which was adjacent to the control tower, and checked out with the desk adjutant, a 30 year old Air Force vet from one of the border wars, Christian Fleisch. He had perfectly trimmed brown hair, and brown eyes. He was in perfect condition, and was the perfect man to run the airfield. Everyone liked him, and if you talked him up enough, he would come give advanced flying lessons for you as long as you liked. For Free. I turned in my logs into them with today's new hours. Both Hans and I had gotten five hours of flight time, atypical for a day of a normal pilot at the club. But it was normal for us.

"You guys need to take a little time off," Christian smiled as he signed off on the hours, "Because you're catching up on all of us alte Manner(old men)!"

"Well, then you all need to get off of your asses and fly then!" Hans spat back.

"I wish I could Hans," Christian said with a frown, "The paperwork has been ridiculous as of late. Some of the other fields around here are trying to buy us out too. It's been a struggle to keep this place going. I wish I could fly soon."

"It's fine," I chimed in, "You will when you can."

We retrieved our books and went to the lockers to grab our bags. I unlocked it, and pulled out my wallet, car keys, and my pad for notes.

"Hey Erich you see that hangar over on the other side of the field today?"

"Ja, for the hundredth time! I always see it when we come down. What of it?"

"I think we need to go check it out. I've talked to Jens and Dieter, and they said no one's opened it in about forty years. We should go see what's inside!"

I slammed my locker shut and looked over at him, "Has it ever occurred to you some things are left unopened for a reason?"

"Maybe, but what would we lose it we went? Come on Erich, it will only be five minutes!"

I was tired of hearing him go on and on about it, so I relented.

"Fine, but only five minutes! Any more time, and I'm gone!"

"Sure, sure! Let's go!"

He sprinted outside back over past our glider. He bolted across the grass and I followed him as fast as I could. We looked both ways before we crossed the runway, and continued shortly after. After a few more seconds we were there. The hangar was old and very weathered and rusted. The thing was somewhat big, about thirty feet tall, and about a hundred feet wide. The hangar had definitely seen better days.

"What'cha think Erich?"

"I don't know, this thing's been here a long time."

"Yeah, I wonder what's inside?"

"Do I even need to repeat myself?"

"Come on Erich! Live a little would ya?"

I sighed and followed him over to the center of the hangar where the steel doors met. There was no lock on the door.

"Let's push, on three!" Hans pipped as we put our hands on the right-side door. "One, two, three!"

The door creaked and strained as we forced it open. After about twenty feet it loosened and rolled freely. We got it over to the far side, and turned to see what was inside. We couldn't believe it. There were two pristine Osean War fighters in the musty darkness. A Belkan Me-109 prop-plane, and a Belkan Me-262 jet fighter, the very first production jet-powered plane ever made. We were amazed at our find. I quickly ran over to the 109 and carefully climbed up on the wings. Under the cockpit was in small cursive print was a name, Tomas Völler. My father's name.

"Hans! This is my dad's plane!"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, come look!"

Hans hopped up onto the Messerschmitt's wings and came over. He gasped at the name. "I never knew your dad was a Messer pilot!"

"Yeah, he told me not to tell anyone. Is his name on the 262?"

"No. There's no markings on it at all."

"Oh well, that would of been too good to be true," I sighed. I opened the 109's canopy, and on the seat of the plane was a full pilot kit. Leather helmet, parachute, portable oxygen system, and the best part, the flight jacket. I picked up the old flight jacket off the seat and dusted it off. It was a heavily worn brown color, and had no patches on it at all. The only sign of who it belonged to was on the front of the jacket. The squadron insignia, the red jaguar, was painted on the front under the left breast, and underneath it scribbled in a black print of some sort was 'Schnitter Ein'(Reaper One). That alone was enough to almost make me feint. Reaper One was a legendary pilot, who until now, was unidentified. He was the Ace of Aces against Osean powered craft and considered to be the best pilot to ever take to the skies, even though there were higher scores against the Yuktobanians to the West, that were assisting Osean Forces in the fight. "Hans! My dad is Reaper One!"

"I can't believe it! We hit the jackpot!" Hans cheered.

"What are you two doing in here?" a familiar voice echoed in the hangar.

We both looked out to the light and saw my father standing there, Tomas Völler, who we now knew was Reaper One. In '91 my dad was 66. He had lost his trademark blonde hair, which had faded to a distinct dark grey. His eyes were an abnormal green, but it didn't stop him from looking any less intimidating. Wearing a blue pair of overalls, and a black baseball cap, you'd have no idea he was an ace combat pilot. He never spoke of it to anyone besides me, and even though he told me of his experiences, he beat into me I should never repeat the stories he told me.

"Are you…"

"Yes, Erich. I am," My father jutted in.

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I was afraid it would only increase your desire to leave to fly in the Air Force. But, even without it you seem to be on that path," he answered staring towards the ground with a gloomy face. "Come here Erich, there's something I need to tell you. Bring the jacket with you. Hans, you probably need to head home, correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Völler," Hans answered plainly as he sprinted out of the hangar.

"Good," Reaper One smirked.

I walked up to my father and stood in front of him. He honestly wasn't a very imposing figure, but he had the look in his eyes that he was a truly great man. He always had a sixth sense for understanding how I felt.

"I'm sorry, dad."

"No need to be son, it's good that you're curious. Never lose that feeling inside of you to find more in the world. It's what makes us different than everyone." He took the jacket from me, and looked it over. "Ah, Schnitter! I remember Ralf giving me that name." But then his face changed, a wave of sorrow overcame the normally stoic pilot. He was definitely holding back tears. "Erich, I will only say this once, so listen closely. I don't want you to fly in the Air Force because of what happened to me. My… friends were all shot down by the war's end. I don't want that same thing to happen to you. It's the most soul destroying thing to be alone. But, don't think I don't want you to be happy. If flying is where you must go, then so be it. Just don't go and enlist on me. You'd break mine, and your mother's heart, if she was still alive."

"Can I keep the jacket, dad?"

He looked over it one last time, this time with a open mind. His face warmed again, and he chuckled softly.

"Yes, you can son. I think you'd honor their memories wearing it."

So, we walked out of the hangar, and closed the steel door together for the final time.

* * *

-Present Day Valais AFB 1215 hrs-

"Wow, I had no idea that your dad was Reaper One!" Kelly exclaimed as I finished my story.

"Yeah, that old jacket is still in my room here at the base. It's the one I flew with, up until I was given a new one when I was commissioned as a Captain. I figured at that point it was time to make my own name."

"So, where's your father now?" the Osean redhead asked.

I looked around the hangar to see if anyone was watching.

"What? Something wrong?"

"What I am about to tell you is not to be repeated to anyone so I suggest you turn off that recorder."

"Ok, ok," she replied as the recorder chimed off. She put away in her bag that was under the table. "Hit me."

"He's dead."

"Well that's not entirely surprising," she retorted.

"But it's the way that it happened. That's what I need to tell you."

"What happened?"

I looked around again and I saw Lothar coming back.

"You ever been flying in a combat fighter before?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I think it's time we take a little hop. Lothar!"

"Ja, Erich?"

"Get the Falcon ready."

"Erich you can't be serious! You need more time to be ready!" the mechanic argued.

"I'm sick and tired of everyone saying I'm not ready! Just do it Lothar! Aren't the others coming back soon?"

"Ja," Lothar answered.

"Then I'll be their escort. Come on, I haven't flown the Falcon in 2 months."

"Alright you hard-head. I'll get it ready," he rushed off out of the hangar barking orders to the ground crews to roll out the old girl.

"What's the Falcon?" Kelly asked.

"It's the plane I grew up in, basically. The one I started flying with."

A tow car finally appeared with the old grey F-16D, the two-seater, wheeled behind it in all it's glory. The old war-bird had the same red jaguar painted under the front seat. It was still it's normal grey, without any roundels or ID markings. The mercenary training birds were always off the books. The organization that put all of the merc pilots under its wings, Ploesti, made sure that if we were shot down, no one knew who we were. It was a good insurance policy. The Falcon was armed up with an air-superiority load of my typical sidewinders and slammers. I never deviated from that. It was my refined taste. "Well, are you ready miss Haslo?"

"I guess so," she laughed.

"Lothar will help you into the flight kit and the G-suit. It'll feel a bit tight, but that's how you want it."

I walked over to the F-16 and vaulted up into the cockpit. I booted up the electronics and did a quick surface check.

"It feels good to be home," I said aloud. I looked back over my shoulder and Kelly was decked out in the Galm flight kit. Even with the out-of-reg hair, it actually suited her well. "Is it a bad thing to say that you actually look good in that?"

"I don't know," she replied as she got in the instuctor's seat behind me, "If you're messing with me maybe, but I don't think you are."

"I'm not."

"Well then, thank you. Guess I have to go flying with you more often," she snidely remarked.

My face reddened slightly, but she couldn't see it. At that moment I realized I was having some trouble with my flight helmet. I could get the damn thing on, but I couldn't strap the oxygen mask onto it's clip on my left. The strap just wouldn't lock. It didn't help my right arm was twisted in the weirdest position.

"Come on, you piece of crap!" I yelled.

"Erich what's wrong?" Lothar asked as he climbed up the ladder to me.

"I can't get this strap to lock," I muttered as I continued to fail at it, eventually straining my muscle. "Ow! Damn it!"

"You need some help?" he replied.

I sighed. I guess I better be humble from now on. He's going to have to help me with all of this. I hate having someone help me with everything. "Yeah," I grumbled. He quickly hooked it on with no problem and got my seat-belts on. He bolted down the ladder, and took up his position just outside of the left-wing's reach.

"We good Lothar?"

"She's ready!"

"Roger, I'm sealing us in." The canopy slid down over us, and snapped shut. We were in the glass tube now. "One thing before we go up," I hollered to Kelly as the engine howled to life, "Don't worry if you have to throw up, I did many a time the first time I went up in this. Just grunt hard in the turns, and you should be ok. If you need it there's a bag in a pouch to your right."

"Ok, let's go!" she called over the roar of the engines.

I gave the signal for the cross-drop, and the gear around the plane was removed. I gave a little juice to the jet, and we were on our way. The little Falcon rolled down the taxi-way and I put her on line for takeoff.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting permission for takeoff, over."

"Roger, Galm 1, good to hear you're back. You are clear for takeoff runway 27, over."

"Galm 1 copies all. Ready back there?" I saw a thumbs up in my rear-view mirror. "This is going to hurt, be ready!"

I pushed the throttle to max power, and we were rolling down the runway at speed in no time. I gently pulled back on the stick and we were cruising into the stratosphere. I put the Falcon up to about 30,000 feet onto a CAP circle over the base. I flipped my visor up, and gazed into the afternoon sky, full of bright hues of blue, and small wiry cirrus clouds. I switched off the radio, and settled back into my seat. "We have about an hour before the guys get back, so now's the time to tell my final story. You ready to hear it?"

"Yes, I'm listening."

"This happened in the last year, during in the Reconquista war in Sapin. The other guys, Buzzard, Vixen, Lobo, Rainman, and Zero, were shipped with our instructor to fight with the Condor Legion, a group of volunteers fighting with Loyalists to keep the monarchy in Sapin….."

* * *

-July 7, 1994 Neuve Calibra, Sapin-

I was flying escort that day for a bombing run near the small town of Neuve Calibra, on the northern side of Sapin. I was flying this very Falcon that day. The other guys were who I was escorting on the sortie. We were tasked with taking out a munitions factory that was smack dab in the center of the rural village.

"Alright cubs!" My instructor Viktor Andrianov growled in his very thick Yuktobanian accent from the backseat of my Falcon, "The target will be in sight in a few minutes, get your attack pattern lined up and ready. I won't be waiting for you if you waste your time!" A chorus of nervous "Yes, Sir"s came in over the radio. Then he turned his attention to me. "Alright Cipher, you got point on this op. Even though we expect no fighters doesn't mean there won't be. Keep your eyes glued to the horizon and the sun. I have a feeling we won't be alone in the skies today."

"You got it, Boss," I replied confidently. Yeah. This monster's callsign was 'Boss'.

"Good, just remember what you learned and you'll be fine, Cipher."

"Roger, Boss." I pulled in front of the formation of F-16 XL's, the very same ones they still fly, and hit the gas. The guys followed suit and we sped to Nueve Calibra. About 2 miles out, we dropped out of the super-cruise.

"Alright Buzzard! You lead the run!" Andrianov barked.

"Yes sir, this is Volk 2, beginning attack run," the Usean nervously called out.

"Good! The rest of you follow suit!" Andrianov ordered.

"This is Volk 3, beginning attack run," Vixen called on the comm.

"This is Volk 4, beginning attack run," Lobo replied.

"This is Volk 5, beginning attack run," Rainman blurted.

"This is Volk 6, beginning attack run," Zero quietly reported.

"Alright arm your UGBL's and start the attack, don't be worried about the AA fire, only move if there's a missile lock, got me?" the instructor cooly rattled off. The mics all clicked in unison, as the XL's dove for the green hills of Sapin. Nueve Calibra was in the center of a small valley of the hilly region of Campo Verde. It wasn't well situated for a ground defense, but for aerial defense it was perfect. A pilot would have to come down to attack right into a kill zone below 5,000 feet, and the rebel gunners on the ground knew it. The crew's planes were immediately met with tough resistance as they dove towards the factory. As the run began, the guns opened up on my friends. The flak and machine guns lit up the sky with hot lead. But they pressed on. They kept going, closer and closer. When they were right on top of the factory, they dropped the payload, and the factory was wiped clear of the map. Viktor and I hooted and hollered over the radio.

"Now that's an airstrike!" the Yuktobanian commented.

"Hell of a job guys!" I cheered.

But then the day went to hell in a hand basket. My IFF was bawling at me like a baby, and I took a look at the screen. Eight fast-movers coming in from the North.

"Boss, I'm picking up eight fighters on the scope."

"Roger, Cipher, I see them! Volk 2 through 6 exfil immediately," Viktor calmly ordered.

"But Boss, you have an eight-on-one!" Buzzard cried out, "You'll be dead meat!"

"I don't care Buzzard, you get them home safe!" I yelled at my friend.

"You sure you can do this?" he asked.

"I was born for this moment," I replied.

"Alright, go get 'em. Volk 2 heading out."

"Good luck Cipher, Volk 3 retreating," Vixen worriedly called.

The rest of them left. I was alone in the sky with the enemy fast approaching.

"You know what to do, Cipher! This is the final test!"

This is a test! I thought angrily to myself. He's nuts! But I knew I couldn't run. I had to fight.

"Roger Boss." I pushed the Falcon up to about 35,000 feet, and waited to pounce. I was right in the sun to keep the enemies unaware of my presence. As they closed within a few miles, I caught sight of what the planes were. F-15C's grouped into two finger-four formations. This was going to be…..fun. As they neared the town, I took the opportunity and dived straight for the leading formation locking them up with the AMRAAMs.

"Fox 3!" The missiles fell upon the four unsuspecting Belkans, and wiped them out before they had a chance to react.

"Very good, cub! You'll make a good fighter pilot yet! Don't let up though! Let's get the other formation." We rose again at 60 degrees into the clouds at max power , but the next wing of Eagles was coming up after us. "What's the rule Cipher?" Viktor asked.

"Meet the guns!"

"Good!"

I stall dived the Falcon at about 27,000 feet and rushed back down to meet the Eagles's fire. The lead plane dove out of the way, but my 20mm cannon struck the number two right out of the air. The number three quickly turned away as a result, but the number four was too slow, and I launched a sidewinder at him close to the end of my dive. As I finished it, and returned back into another climb, I caught the wreckage in my rearview mirror. I was an….

"I know what you're thinking cub! Push it out of your mind, celebrations are for later! We have a job to finish, now, readjust and launch another attack."

"Roger, Boss."

I leveled the Falcon at about 25,000 feet trying to get an eye on my attackers. They were cruising low at my 4 o'clock, doing the same thing as me. I turned off into an Split-S and throttled up to 3/4 power. The Eagles came rushing my way, head-on. As soon as I entered range, I let loose a sidewinder on the second plane, shattering it instantly. But, the first plane made its mark. A cannon round pierced the canopy. It hit Andrianov right in the head. He was dead in an instant. I turned back to look at him, and he was hunched over in his seat, completely lifeless and limp. I almost panicked and gave up the fight at that image. But all of a sudden, I heard a voice.

"Hellooo? You there, mercenary?" a Belkan accent came in over the radio. I looked around and saw the F-15 sitting off my right wing. He was just looking at me, and my fury was only building by the minute.

"You got something to say?" I shot back.

"Well, don't we have a little feisty one!"

"I don't have all day, schwein-hund(pig-dog)! Get on with it!" I yelled.

"Ah, so you are a Verlorener Junge(Lost Boy)! I should of guessed by how well you flew." I looked at the tail of the plane, and I saw a strange symbol. It was a snake, with it's body arraigned in a figure eight. We had heard about the Devil Snakes from the Sapinese pilots. They were scared to death of them. And now I knew why. Flying against Belkans is no easy feat. "Well, enough chit-chat junge. I am a Grabacr, and I don't like to wait!"

"I'd hate to disappoint you," I called mockingly.

"A sense of humor as well! You are an odd-case! Well, I might as well hurry up and kill you, so I can continue fighting for the glory of Belka!" I quickly rolled and pushed the stick hard right to get behind him. He copied the maneuver and was now over to my left. I went up at 85 degrees on full power, and made an Immelmann turn to try and readjust, but he was now on my tail. I moved off to the right again, at about 30,000 feet and went into another climb. I was going to push the ceiling on this thing. I climbed more and more, on afterburner hitting 50,000 feet. Luckily, his Eagle couldn't make it and leveled at about 45,000 feet. I reversed and dove back down at him. He turned tail and tried to make a run for it, and I pursued him. This whole time I could hear Andrianov's body shaking in the seat behind me. It was soul-destroying to listen to that as I fought, but It only pushed me harder. I got in range behind the speeding Eagle and released a sidewinder. The missile made its merry way to the plane and impacted off of the tailplanes. The Eagle rocketed towards the ground, and a chute was not far away.

I turned the Falcon back to base ,and I was a wreck. After the sortie, I didn't speak to anyone for 3 days. But by then, the war had ended with the Loyalists managing to hang on to their power. If Andrianov had made it through that flight, he would have gone home. But he didn't. Strangely he said this to me only a week earlier, "One of these days those Valkyries will carry me to Valhalla. It is inevitable. I know it will come, when the one who is worthy will replace me." He was spot-on. Vixen managed to coax me out of my mental exile after the 3 days. I guess that's why we're somewhat close. Ever since then our eject code, if we were going down, was Valhalla. It was a fitting tribute for our instructor. He's buried back in his hometown in Yuktobania, under a unmarked grave. The only words on the tombstone read, "I am in Valhalla, for my glory was in battle."

* * *

-30,000 feet over Valais AFB, 1315 hrs.-

I could almost hear Kelly shudder at the thought she was sitting where Andrianov was killed. "Well, what's that have to do with your father?" she asked from the back-seat, "I mean, sure the Belkans weren't happy, but what happened to your dad?"

"My father was killed the day after the war ended in favor of the Loyalists. My whole hometown was torched when I returned there on leave. When I got back to my farmstead, my father's body was hanging from a noose on the doorway of my house. There was a sign draped on his chest. It read, 'This is what traitors deserve. We know who you are.' There was no doubt in my mind it was perpetrated by the Grabacr pilot no doubt. The legend was killed not in combat, but by extremists on the ground. I don't think he would of guessed that was his way out."

"Sheesh. Well, Cipher, you've had one hell of a ride, " she continued, "I can't believe all these crazy things have happened to you."

"It isn't over yet."

I could see the guys coming this way at about 20,000 feet from my one o'clock low.

"Galm 3, this is Galm 1, do you copy over."

"Hey Cipher, Buzzard here, the Op was good. No problems."

"Good to hear!" I exclaimed happily, "You guys are clear to touchdown."

"Roger. Wait, hold on a second. Radar must be going crazy! Eight craft bearing from the North."

No. No. No,no,no,no,no!

"Guys get out! This can't be! I think it's the devil snakes!" I ordered as I managed to toggle my master arm switch, almost lying totally forward in my seat.

"What?!" Vixen shouted, "There's no way!"

"It's the exact same picture on the screen, same grouping, numbers. It has to be," I replied.

"Oh come on!" Buzzard snarled, "I hoped we never had to deal with these bastards again. Let's move it guys!"

"Looks like we do," I answered.

"Ready to get 'em buddy?" Pixy said as he formed up on my wing.

"You got it! Kelly you alright back there?"

"Jesus Cipher, you seriously going to put me in the middle of a dogfight?" she asked worriedly.

"I thought it would be good for the story!" I laughed.

She didn't. The planes came into range again, but these were no ordinary interceptors. These were F-15S/MTD's. The most advanced Eagle out there. This was going to be a slaughter.

"Guys, can you get down?" I nervously snapped.

"No! They're rejecting the landing clearance!" Lobo replied.

"Damn it! Pixy, we're attacking!"

"Roger Cipher, Galm 2 engaging!"

"Galm 1, engaging! Central Command confirm over-watch duty over!"

"Roger Galm 1, Central Command is assuming over-watch over. Eight targets bearing 010 on the nose. Cleared to intercept, the targets are confirmed as Belkan fighters."

Really! I thought as we went onto to combat power. I let the cannon loose to scatter the flock, and it worked well. The 8 planes were now evenly dispersed in the sky in front of us.

"Pixy, you go first, I'm not going to be up to full effectiveness in here. You're clear for independent attack priority and special weapons."

"Roger Cipher, I'm loose."

The Solo Wing Eagle roared up past us to my right, and went off towards the hunt. I pushed the Falcon up and veered off to the left to chase down on of the S's. The first one I had locked up was climbing hard at my three o'clock. I made a Immelmann turn and took off after him, mimicking the climb at about a 70 degree angle of attack. The Eagle's pilot then realized I was on him, and pitched the plane hard down in a negative G-turn. I rolled the Falcon, and did an inverted dive. The Eagle was now diving out of control, and smashed into the mountains with a great plume of exploding jet fuel. I shook my head. "One of 'em blacked himself out, guess it's a kill for me," I reported.

"Roger Galm 1, keep up the attack, over," Central Command responded.

"I copy. You still good back there Kelly?"

"Yeah, it's actually not too bad since you actually can see where you're flying," she replied.

"Yeah, that's why I hate airliners." I dove off to my left again, and out of a dive, I managed to get a perfect deflection shot right on one of the other Eagle's engines. He was out of the fight, and immediately egressed. I didn't bother to go after him. Another MTD/S was coming in from my six and fired a sidewinder at the max range. I jinked back on the stick and put myself face-to-face with the attacker. I had already lost the missile in the turn, so I launched my own in retaliation. It worked its way over, and managed to impact the nacelles on the underside. He was heavily damaged, and soon bailed out. Then, a familiar voice came over the radio.

"Ah! The Grosse Junge(Big Boy) is here!" the wicked Belkan snake stated.

"You sure about that Ashley?" one of the other Belkan pilots asked.

"Ja Michael, That's the same Falcon from Nueve Calibra! Don't you recognize it?" Ashley answered.

"Ah! I do remember it's due time we paid back that rebellious junge." he snorted.

"Well, well, snakes! Is time for another ass-kicking?" I mockingly boomed over the comm.

"Ah, so it is you!" Ashley commented, "It was only a matter of time anyways. I don't think you in much of a position to make such a remark, because I see that one of your freunde(friends) is in trouble!" I glanced over my right shoulder and saw one of the XL's coming under fire from a Belkan Eagle.

"Who's under fire?"

"It's me, Rainman!" he nervously called out, "It's getting to an extraordinary level of bad over here!"

"I'm coming!" I turned over and headed in that direction. The Eagle was now following him down in a 30 degree dive, right over the base. He was being rather liberal with his missile ordinance, firing at every opportune moment. The XL was avoiding the missiles, but I knew he didn't have long. I went after the tailing Belkan, and gave him some 20mm hail. It struck all over the the S's body, and he released a Sparrow right at Rainman and broke from the fight. The big projectile sped right towards the XL and impacted right into the tail.

"RAINMAN! GET OUT!"

There was only a one word response as the crippled delta-wing Falcon fell. It was so feint I wasn't even sure it was actually even spoken.

Valhalla…

The Falcon fell right onto the taxi-way of the base near the GHQ. He was dead the second he hit the ground.

"RAINMAN!" Lobo cried, "I've had enough of this! I'm going after these guys!"

"Lobo! Stay back, that's an order!" Buzzard said nervously.

"Lobo! We can't lose you too!" I yelled at the Sapinese mercenary, "Come on! You need to get home too!"

"I just can't sit by while my friends die!"

"You have to Lobo! Do you want to leave your family back home alone?"

"This is my family! I won't let anyone else die today!"

He pushed on full afterburner, with Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero hot on his tail to try and get him to shake off. The Belkans were having none of it.

"So this one wants to die too? Fine by me!" Ashley arrogantly called. He put his F-15 right in front of Lobo's Falcon and gave a full broadside of ordinance. I tried to get after him, but I couldn't get him in time. The missiles impacted right into Lobo's ordinance, setting the Falcon ablaze. It tumbled from the skies, and impacted into the mountains behind the base. This had to end!

"Pixy, you bag 'em?"

"Yeah, I tried my hardest, buddy. All that's left are the psychos, Ashley and Michael."

"Let's get them. Buzzard, make sure you keep them back this time!"

"I couldn't do anything Cipher! I'll do my best."

"You have to do better than that!" I angrily cried at my friend. I turned hard in the formation with Pixy, and we raced towards the remaining planes. I released two Slammers from long range, and the Snakes avoided them, no problem.

"Ha! Not good enough to defeat an Ofnir!" Michael hissed.

"This boy can't defeat a true Grabacr!" Ashley bellowed.

I grunted and turned hard into another high-G turn. I put myself behind Ashley's Eagle and followed him up on 3/4 throttle through a series of sweeping turns. I wasn't letting him get away. The targeting reticle for my gun flicked on, and I positioned my reticle over the computer's suggestion. I depressed the trigger and I could see the full-metal tracers streaming in a solid line right at the Eagle's fuselage. Pixy was doing the exact same thing over to my right. We had them. "So much for that, Ashley! Looks like you're in trouble now!" I threatened, my voice filled with pangs of pain and despair. I didn't feel like I really stood behind those words. But they had to go down. My longtime friends died at their hands. But the gun wasn't enough. They had an armor similar to what I had faced with the Rot, and they shook off the hits, and ran.

"Another day, we will kill you, Belkan traitor!"Ashley mockingly sneered.

"Ha! I doubt it, you had trouble enough killing a pilot with only one arm!" I shouted back.

"What?" Michael replied, "That can't be right!"

"Well Grosse Junge! We will meet again! Your father was only the first!"Ashley said as turned away.

"What?" Vixen blurted out, "What is he talking about Erich?"

"I'll tell you later."

The S's sped off away from us. Out of sight and out of mind. We quickly turned back and put the planes back down. Even though the old Falcon was a bit lagging behind my Widow, it was nice to fly the old girl one more time. Even with what had happened. I parked the Falcon outside of the team hangar, and the crews got to work shutting her down. The other guys's planes were rolled off into the team hangar. The canopy popped open, and they helped Kelly out first. I didn't even stir. I sat there in utter silence. I had lost two of my friends. My dad's words were starting to become truth right in front my eyes.

"Why didn't I listen to him?" I whispered. The weight of the world was resting on my shoulders, and forced them down into a heavy sulk. Lothar hooked up the ladder and came up to check on me.

"You ok, Erich?"

I didn't answer.

"Er-rich, knock-knock, you home in there?" he said as he knocked on my helmet.

"Just….just…" I stammered, "Leave me alone."

"Ok, I will. Do you want me to get you out of there?"

"Yes, please."

He unfastened my belts, and unhooked my oxygen mask. I finally breathed in fresh air, and took a couple of deep breaths to recompose myself.

"Erich!" I heard Vixen call from my left, "Is he ok, Lothar?"

"He's in shock, of course," he replied calmly as he supported me down the ladder, "I'm surprised he's worse off than you."

"I'll take him," she replied calmly.

She supported me all the way back to my room. On the way, the rest of the personnel just looked on in shock at me. I looked like a total mess. My eyes were wild and wandering every which way. My clothes were disheveled and tossed about. I was in no mood to speak. She eventually got to my room, number eleven, and helped me inside. She laid me out on my bed, readjusted my clothes, and unzipped my jacket. I finally was able to breath a little.

"Now, what's that you need to tell me?" she angrily inquired, her face growing ever more red.

My head didn't even turn to face her as I spoke. "My father is dead."

"What? You said he was still alive a month ago," she retorted, "What's that have to do with all of this?"

"The reason they know about my father, is because they killed him, lynched him. Heinzhollen is gone. They torched it. Remember the day I came back from leave with my stuff all covered in soot last year?"

She quietly nodded.

"They razed it. There's nothing left. Everyone's dead, and now they killed Rainman and Lobo!" I broke into an uncontrollable sob, and Vixen came over and put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's ok. You did all you could. If you hadn't been up we could of all been dead. As long as you don't forget them, Rainman and Lobo will never be gone."

"They didn't deserve this as their death. I deserved death more than they did."

"No you turned death back!" she yelled at me, "Don't you ever say you deserve death!"

I turned towards her. She was starting to tear up too. Her eyes were welling up, and I knew she felt the same pain as I did. That feeling that you were robbed, cheated, and lied to. Your best friends, your pals, your buddies torn away from you. You had no control in this life. The only thing you could control was yourself. At that moment, I was humbled. She was showing greater strength than I ever had. She was doing it for me.

"Thanks Vixen," I replied softly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said as she kissed me. I wasn't even surprised.

* * *

**Glossary-**

**Ploesti- A city in Romania, where a crucial oil field was located during WWII that the Germans desperately needed for their war efforts. It was bombed by a daring raid of B-24 Liberators in Operation Tidal Wave, which ended in failure. It was eventually dubbed "Black Sunday". 53 planes, and 660 crew members were lost in the raid.**

**Condor Legion: A reference to the infamous Condor Legion that flew in Spain during the Spanish Civil War in the 30's on the side of the Nationalists under Franco. Many famous pilots WWII pilots started their careers here, including Adolf Galland and Werner Molders.**

**Volk: Russian for Wolf**

**Valhalla: Basically a warrior's paradise after death in Norse mythology watched over by Odin. Can I just say, Norse mythology is freaking awesome! I hate the Marvel Thor films though(Tactical Fan-hate Nuke inbound!).**


	10. Chapter 10: The Spearhead

_"Their element is to attack, to track, to hunt, and to destroy the enemy. Only in this way can the eager and skillful fighter pilot display his ability. Tie him to a narrow and confined task, rob him of his initiative, and you take away from him the best and most valuable qualities he posses: aggressive spirit, joy of action, and the passion of the hunter."_

_General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe._

* * *

Ch. 10 The Spearhead

-May 17, 1995 Valais AFB, 0630 hrs-

I shuddered awake in my cot with a light beaming in my face. Standing over me was Vixen.

"Time to get going, we have the sortie in a couple of hours," she whispered.

"Not really looking forward to it, to be truthful," I replied.

She helped me into my uniform, and my flight suit. I now wore the thing almost 24/7 when I was awake. I didn't have time to take it off and on since I was with my stump. I got the sling off the night before, so I had a little more freedom, but it still sucked. She finished off the dressing by tying my shoes. I finally stood, and grabbed my crushed hat off of my desk, and I slapped it on my head. First order of business was breakfast. The mess was alright, especially for me and Vixen, since it served a lot of Belkan food. Breakfast, in Belkan style, was typically light. Some eggs, fresh bread, and cold meat. Coffee was blood around here, and was a lot stronger than a normal Osean 'kinder' blend as we called it. Probably because Belkans and Ustians are bitter people. We just need a coffee that suits us. After I got my food and took a seat at one of the tables with Vixen, Buzzard and Zero came in and sat with us. I had spent the past night telling them about my dad and who he really was, and I filled them in on what I knew of the Grabacr. The Ofnir was a new name that I had never heard of before. With the funerals for Rainman and Lobo pushed back indefinitely, and Kelly already gone, we were pushed back into frontline action. But for the time being, we concerned ourselves with the matters of these strange squadrons.

"So these Grabacr and Ofnir guys, they are in with whoever's running the show?" Buzzard inquired.

"Have to be," I said as I took a sip of my coffee, "There's no way they penetrated that airspace on their own. Someone's helping them."

"What really seems odd is that the ground forces weren't firing any AA or SAM's yesterday," Zero replied.

"Yeah, that is weird," Vixen said as she took a bite out of her bread.

"We have to keep on our toes guys. We don't know who's really on our side," I quietly commanded as some of other personnel sat at tables around us. Vixen appeared to be very nervous as she shivered in her seat next to me. I softly took hold of her hand, her fears slowly faded away, and she calmed down. She laid her head into my right shoulder, and it put me at ease too. It was nice to have her around.

"Thanks, Erich," she whispered into my ear.

"You need me, just let me know. We're a team up there, and down here."

An adjutant rushed into the room and gave us an order to report to the briefing room. We threw away our food and headed that way. We all rushed in to find Chennault standing at the front of the room waiting for us. We took our seats, and the protocol briefing began.

"Intelligence reports that Belka is developing nuclear arms and V2, a weapon of mass destruction. The Allied Forces' top brass have decided to send troops across the Hydrian Line into Belka to check for nuclear arms and secure resource interests."

Of course, I thought, It's about the money.

"Centered on the ruined base of Glatisant, the Hydrian Line, Belka's long line of defense, stretches 700 kilometers from Osea's southern border to the border of Sapin. Situated at the peak of Mt. Ivrea, the ruins of Glatisant have been transformed into a modern base with antiaircraft artillery and a powerful defense system. The Galm Team's mission is to launch an aerial strike on Glatisant, opening the door to Belka for our ground troops. In all probability, this will be an extended operation. You will be able to refuel during the latter half of the mission. If you're low on fuel, temporarily withdraw from the battle and return to base. Good luck. I know it's going to be tough up there without your friends, but keep at it. That's all."

We ran out and headed to our planes, and to our surprise their were some new war-birds on the line. Three brand new F-2A Viper Zeroes were now parked outside the team's hangar. They were in the distinctive blue camouflage, which signified their former role as navy defense fighters. The guys were all surprised about the upgrade, and they ran to their new babies while Lothar gave them a rundown on the specs. I walked over to my plane, the Red Widow inside the team hangar. Pixy was there waiting for me.

"Hey buddy, how's it going?"

"Not too bad, you doing alright?"I shot back.

His face immediately paled and he looked away. I was really confused. What did I do? I saw something sticking out of his right pocket on his flight jacket. The paper was a sepia print, and had a large notice on it that read "Lucan and Bedivere have called" but that's all I could make out before he quickly shoved it out of my sight.

"I'm good, buddy. Let's just get this over with."

"Fine by me. And we'll have a little chat about that paper later Pixy, I'm not that blind."

He frowned as I mentioned that, and the Solo-Wing pilot rushed away to his Eagle. Lothar finished his business getting the 2's ready, and he came over to help me.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."I started to climb up the ladder with Lothar pushing me up from behind. When I got to the top, I flopped down into the seat, and put all of my belts on top of me. Lothar quickly strapped me in, and handed me my helmet. I threw it on, and gave him my crusher cap. He took my cap, and fastened on my oxygen mask. With his slap on my helmet, I knew I was ready.

"Contact!" I called.

The general electric jets rumbled on, emitting a hazy hue behind them. I closed up the canopy, and gave the cross-drop. The gear around the Widow was removed, and I put the Widow into motion. The Red 23 rolled down the taxi-way menacingly. I stopped right at the end of the runway.

"This is Galm 1, requesting takeoff runway 27, over."

"Roger Galm 1, Tower speaking, you're good for launch. Good luck today, over."

"I copy Tower."

I gave full thrust to the engines, and the Widow progressed down the runway with ever increasing speed. I gently pulled back on the stick, and she was gliding right into the air. We made the formation at about 35,000 feet and made the short flight to the Hydrian Line.

* * *

-1030 hrs Hydrian Line-

There was a heavy storm clouding over the combat zone of the main fortress at Glatisant, which meant we had a chance to get a surprise attack in from up high, if the intelligence was right. We rode through the heavens at a leisurely cruise, all the while the Viper Zeros were readying their targeting computers for the run. Pixy and I maintained an air-superiority load, so we could keep the guys safe. For the rearming, we would stagger it, where one-half of our force would pull out, while the others maintained a presence. Lucky for us, some of the other forces had taken out the area gate, so we could save some of the goods for the big boy, the Wall, which held the heaviest AA battery along the entire line.

" 'Nuclear Inspection'? What a joke," Pixy muttered.

"They make up anything they want Pixy, you have to remember that," I replied.

"Doesn't mean I don't like it less."

"No shit!" I answered mockingly, "Just keep your head in the game bro."

"Thanks buddy."

"How we looking Buzzard? You guys ready?"I asked over the comm.

"Yeah we're pretty good. Probably safe to make our dive now."

"Roger, we're Oscar Mike," I ordered.

We all simultaneously rolled the planes onto their bellies and began the attack run at about a 65 degree angle of attack. Pixy and myself would only be a diversionary ruse to get the focus of the guns. We broke the cloud cover, and immediately the rain began to implode all over my canopy with loud knocks. Mt. Iverea was right in front of us, and the guns immediately opened fire. The AA fire was ferocious. The main tower was giving us hell with the machine guns and cannons, while all around the complex, SAM's and pillboxes were adding up to a deadly cocktail of lead and fire. I gave full thrust and rushed low, and made a pass over the main tower to try and give a little shock-wave to loosen up the guns. Pixy was circling the tower as I did so, and managed to divert some of the fire. I dove down into the dark green valley to the north of the fortress, and reversed. I came back over again, managing to snag the attention of the SAM's. The diversion was making it a walk in the park for the former Halo team members. They were coming in nice and easy, and had a big load of Mavericks to present to the Belkans. As I moved south, I caught a glimpse of the missiles running straight into the tower from my rear-view mirror. It had great effect and managed to make the old tower collapse.

"Target destroyed," Vixen called, "What's next boss?"

"I'll follow you over to the Harrier base on the north side, Vixen. Pixy you take the guys over the Castle. After that, we'll stagger return, and move on to the Tower from there."

A chorus of clicks met my orders and we quickly got back to the hunt.

"You doing ok, Vixen?" I called as the F-2 leveled off my left wing.

"I'm doing great, actually. Got your birthday present ready for the 23rd!"

Shit! My birthday is next week! The 23rd!

"Man, I almost forgot about that!" I said angrily.

"How could you forget your own birthday?"

"This war makes you forget all those things," I spoke sadly.

"Well, just keep your eyes open, all right?" she said warmly.

"Thanks, Vicki."

"Don't mention it."

"You lovebirds at the Harrier base yet?" Buzzard radioed in.

"Yeah, pretty much," I chuckled, "Make sure you watch your targets Buzzard."

We finally arrived at the Harrier base and I finally had some targets to shoot at. There was a series of hangars over at the far end of another castle complex to the north. Luckily I was getting air-to-air locks due to them being identified as planes on the IFF. I let loose with four of my Slammers, having good effect on the grounded jump-jets. Two Harriers were actually up though, and were giving Vixen a hard time on the attack run.

"Vixen circle around, I'll take those guys out for ya."

"Roger."

I climbed up to just under cloud level, and made a long swooping turn to the right, and got behind the Harriers, which were just sitting in their hover mode. I got the first one with an easy gun strike in the engines. It slowly tumbled with the pilot bailing, and I re-engaged on the second one which was trying to speed away at about 5,000 feet. I got with the gun as well, putting him into an uncontrollable flat-spin. "You're clear, my lady."

"Well, thank you," she replied.

She let loose with the rest of her Mavericks to take out the hard points. I mopped up some of the munitions stocks with some cannon-fire strafes. It wasn't too hard.

"Alright, Pixy, sit-rep if you would?" I called.

"Castle is confirmed destroyed. Ready to maintain for your refuel and rearm."

"Roger, we're ex-filling."

We hit the gas and stormed back south to Ustio and Valais to get rebooted for the last run. We were super-cruising at about 25,000 feet, and it was a relaxing flight back above the thick cloud cover.

"Hey Cipher?" Vixen sheepishly asked.

"What's wrong?" I answered instinctively.

"Oh, nothing. It's just," she sighed, "I kind of want a break from all of this."

"I know what you mean. It's been rough. Losing Rainman and Lobo in the same day was totally stupid."

"Uh-huh. I was thinking, if we have time, do you want to spend leave over at my place for your birthday? Since your place is well…you know..."

"Sure, sure," I quickly cut her off, "I'd love too."

"Great! I think it would be good for the both of us."

"I don't doubt it."

We finally made it back to Valais, which was now covered in the omnipotent clouds that cloaked the skies over the Hydrian Line, but instead of torrential rain, flaky snow came down onto the air base.

"Tower this is Galm 1 and 3, requesting permission to land, over."

"Roger, clear for runway 9 over."

I put the flaps down on the machine, and coasted her in for a perfect soft landing, and Vixen easily followed suit. We took the birds off the runway and got them in position for the crews to get us back to full-up. I opened the cockpit for some air, and Vixen did too. Lothar came over to supervise the activities decked out in his winter kit, which was a thick leather coat and very thick wool boots that made his feet look a lot larger than they actually did.

"How's the hunting?" the crew chief asked.

"Couple of hares," I replied, "No big bucks, yet."

"Ah, well it's better than nothing isn't it?"

"It would be better if I could actually hunt a real deer, not a damn human-being," I retorted.

"True, I think so too. We need to do that when it's all over."

"If I can find a place, and If I can ever shoot a rifle again!"

"Oh you will!" he said as the crew finished its duties, "You're good to go Erich."

"Alright, you good Vixen?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's roll!"

We were back in line on the runway, and ready to get back to work.

"You're clear Galm 1 and 3. Go get 'em."

"Roger."

Again the Widow soared on full afterburner into the air, and back towards the combat zone. As soon as we arrived at the line, Buzzard, being typical Buzzard, started being silly.

"Ah, so you finally return! You guys make out on the ground or something? You're a few minutes late, which is completely unacceptable!," he sarcastically jested.

"Nah, I just stole your stash of beer," I replied. I had just found out about the night before, and I couldn't wait to see how he reacted.

"What?! How'd you know about that?"

"Do you think I wouldn't notice someone carrying beer out of the bar on a regular basis, and then burying it in the snow outside the door nearest to your room? I'm not an idiot!"

"Uh, yeah, right. We're just going…." the Usean trailed off as the wing broke away from us.

The others quickly sped away with Pixy chuckling all the way with his band of misfits. We circled around the Southern sector of the rainy combat zone, and it was relatively quiet until we got some bad news. Really, really bad news.

"This is Eagle Eye," the AWACS controller chimed in for the first time today, "We're picking up some unusual aerial activity. Four signatures are on course for your position Galm 1, vector 290, over."

"Roger Double E. Vixen, we need to push up above the clouds."

"I got you Cipher. You finally going to teach me how to really dogfight?"

"Well, I might not have a choice. You got sidewinders on there?"

"Yeah, should be alright."

"Ok, just stay glued to my tail, and do what I do."

"I copy. Let's move."

We pushed back above the thick clouds and made our way to the radar signatures. Having the element of surprise was crucial on this attack. Whoever this was, we needed to get as many of them down in the first run as we could, since we were outnumbered. "Alright Vixen, you're going to start off much like I did. You need to get as close as possible to the fighters before you fire. That way you won't miss, and you'll cause some serious damage to boot," I instructed

"I copy, close in and then fire away."

"Good. Begin attack." We dove through the clouds and immediately met the enemy fighters JAS-39C Gripens, which were climbing to meet us. I let loose with my cannon and managed to shoot down the third plane in the group. Vixen swerved around the group and then reversed to go after the tail plane. "That's the way!" I called as she opened fire with her cannon. The number four Gripen was trailing smoke, and slowly went down into the mountains. The pilot had safely bailed as well.

"Splash one for Galm 4, over," I called as she formed up on me.

"Roger, Galm 1. Good hunting Galm 4," The AWACS replied.

"Thanks Eagle Eye, let's get the rest of them Cipher."

We headed back above the clouds to get back into the fight. The rest of the Gripens were waiting for us, and immediately launched some long-range ordinance our way. We both did a nice roll-and-turn, and were right back on course for the attack. The Gripens tried to turn tail, but they were unable to get away. I lined up behind the number two and let one of my slammers off the chains. The missile shot right towards the Gripen in an instant, and immediately impacted right into the engine. The plane spun out of control into a dive, and I was worried he wasn't going to be able to get out. But, eventually the Belkan managed to eject. "Thank God," I whispered.

Vixen was all over the number one desperate to get the kill. She had expended all of her sidewinders, so now she was on the gun alone. The Gripen had also done the same, and now it was true duel. A true test of skill. They were weaving every which way, jumping out of the other's way once the rounds were coming. Vixen was flying very well for her first real dogfight, and I realized then it was no ordinary squadron we had faced. It was the Indigo squadron. I had ignored to the white and purple markings on their planes.

"Hey Vixen, be glad you're doing this good. These guys are Indigo."

"You serious?" she replied as she grunted through another turn.

"Yup. Look at his plane."

"Well, well! Not too bad, eh?"

"Nope, did a lot better than me in my real fight, I didn't get any planes, and almost crashed. Twice."

"So, I'm better than you?"

I laughed, "Let's not get carried away, now. Stay focused. Don't let him out of your sight, and be patient."

"Roger."

The battle went on, and on. Circling around each other, trying to get on their opponent's tails. But eventually, the Belkan had enough and tried to run. Vixen couldn't keep up, but I slotted right behind him, and gave a spike. I didn't fire. He just sat there awaiting his death, but eventually, he realized I hadn't fired. I pulled up on his right, and looked over at him. He still had his helmet on, but I could tell it was an older guy, probably in his 30's. I tapped my helmet where my ear would be, and switched my radio over to general comms.

"Hallo?" I called over the radio.

"Ach, Hallo!" I heard a Belkan voice call, "You must be the Devil we keep hearing so much about."

"Really? I thought I was a bit more less known around here," I replied.

"Nein, the Belkans all know who you are. You've made quite a name for yourself Red Devil," the pangs of a aristocratic tongue spoke through the radio.

"Well, I'm glad the enemy somewhat respects me. I've learned to respect you as well, my friend."

"Freunde(friend)? Unfortunately with no ammo, and not enough fuel to get back to base, I think you could be a friend."

"Our base is just a short flight from here. The choice is yours. You can get shot down here, or come back with me. It's up to you."

"Well, I suppose I could come back with you. I'm tired of this war anyways. Do you think you could get a rescue out for my comrades?" The squadron leader spoke.

"Of course. Eagle Eye, you get that?"

"Roger, we'll send choppers to pick them up," the AWACS controller said with no sounds of resistance or anger.

"That good enough for you, Herr…."

"Heinrich, Dimitri Heinrich," the voice calmly responded.

"Well met Herr Heinrich. Vixen, you take lead."

"Roger Cipher, what about the others?"

"They can handle it. Eagle Eye will let them know. Let's get going."

We headed back to base and passed the others on the way. They were rather confused about the situation, but I promised to explain as soon as they finished the mission. We eventually arrived at Valais with the Indigo pilot, and Vixen landed first. The Belkan took second landing, and I followed in behind. We pulled up to the hangar, and swarms of MP's were all around the Indigo Gripen. I watched as the canopy opened, and the pilot of the plane, stepped out, and was escorted away from his plane. He didn't resist, and seemed very civil about the whole situation. Lothar came over carrying a bundle in his hands. I opened the cockpit, and he attached the ladder. The bundle then landed in my lap as Lothar reached me.

"These are for you Erich," he said as he pointed at the bundle, held together with twine, from the ladder.

"What are they?" I asked as I opened it.

"Consider it an early birthday gift, Erich."

Inside there were two things. One was a brand new wool grey Ustian Air Force great-coat, with the red Air Force insignias on the collar, and red Major rank shoulder patches. The other was a wooden walking cane, marked with the squadron insignia on the top. It had intricate carvings all over it and had my name along with the inscription of 'Rittmeister' running down the beautiful dark brown wood. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"The coat is from up high, but the cane is from me. My father is a carpenter, and his walking canes are highly sought after. When I wrote him a letter about what had happened so far, especially with you, he sent it as a gift. He wishes for your safety and health," he responded with a smile, "Let's get you out."

We did our usual 5 minute removal, and I was finally on the ground. Lothar helped me put my coat on, and gave me my new cane. I really looked like one of the fighter aces of old. Der Rittmeister. The Belkan was now brought back out to us again. He had brown hair, and a light beard and moustache growing on his face. His brown eyes were very cold and piercing. Even though he had been captured, he displayed and aura of relief and joy. The pilot was rather surprised to see who we really were under the helmets, staring right back at him.

"I am surprised you two are so young!"'

"I get that a lot Herr Heinrich!" I responded as Vixen came over from her Viper and laid her head on my shoulder. Dimitri just smiled at us.

"Are you two…?" Dimitri asked.

"Yes, you could say so," she responded.

"Are you the one who was on me as well?"

"Not bad for my first time, don't you think?" she said as she looked up to me.

"No, not bad." I replied with a grin.

The Belkan was left with his mouth gaping wide open. He was astonished. All the stories of us being superhuman devils weren't true. We were just teenagers, essentially, fighting a war that we knew so little about. After that, I gave a tour of the place, as long as he promised not to run away, to which he agreed to, with no objections. I showed him the Falcon, and he was surprised about that too. They had heard about the Belkan mercenary who had fought the Grabacr in Sapin. We took him to the mess hall to get some coffee, and it was a refreshing talk. Especially on the information he gave us about the Grabacr and Ofnir.

"The Grabacr and Ofnir are supported by the Ralds, but pretty much everyone else despises them. Much like that Schwarze traitor-killer squadron," Dimitri told to us. It was not a huge surprise, especially with how they acted.

"So they are in league with the Ralds and taking orders directly from them, like Schwarze?" I asked.

"From what word that got around, yes. After your first incident at the Round Table, word was spreading about these squadrons going on assassination runs, trying to kill you. When the one that got to you failed, and they were striped of their strength and power. Now, the only ones that have operational and flying privileges are the leaders Ashley Bernitz, and Michael Heimeroth. Don't think that just because that mission failed they will stop, from what word that got around they're going to try again, once the offensive reaches a certain point," the wise Belkan pilot said as he took a big swig of the coffee.

"I thank you for the information," I said as I held out my only hand.

"You're welcome, It's a strange brotherhood, the air force. It's like a tribe of like-minded people. It pains me greatly that we have to fight. I would prefer to fly with you on more peaceful terms in the future, if such was possible," Dimitri replied shaking back.

"I agree," Vixen replied.

A MP came up to us, and looked over to Dimitri. "Time to go."

"Already?" he replied snidely, "I was starting to like it here!" He got up and dusted himself off, "Best of luck to you both. Maybe we can meet again when this is all finished."

He quietly walked off with the guard, right as the other guys came in. Buzzard was first to voice his concerns.

"Who was that?" he said, or more or less yelled.

"It's the leader of the Indigo squadron, we had a nice chat," I responded.

"Why the hell did you let him in here?!" Buzzard snorted.

"Because he surrendered to me, you idiot!" I snapped, "I didn't want to kill him if I didn't have to!"

"Fine," the Usean pilot growled, "Just don't do it again."

"I can't make any promises, George," I replied.

"Why'd you call me that? You never call me by my first name," Buzzard dubiously responded.

"I figured you needed a little system shock to wake you up."

"Oh."

"What happened out there that made you like that?" I asked Buzzard.

"After we finished our last run, there was a bright flash of light all around us. The squadrons on the other sides of the line were wiped out. In an instant. We have no idea what it was," Buzzard said as he took a seat at the table, and buried his head into crossed arms, "We're the one of the few operating squadrons left in the AO."

"Shit," I said as I took another sip from my coffee, "Guess we're going to have our work cut out for us."

Pixy in this confusion was trying to slip away, but I caught him off to my right, near the door leading outside.

"Pixy! Get over here!" I ordered pointing to a seat across from me at the table. He slowly dragged himself over there, his face paled. He knew he was going to have to tell me what all those things in his paper meant. "Now, Pixy, do you mind elaborating to us what was on that note I saw earlier?"

The veteran sighed and then began to speak, "It's an old dispatch method from some of my friends in the Osean Air Force. You know one of them. Lucan is Joshua Bristow from Wizard. The other, Bedivere, is Anthony Palmer, from Sorcerer squadron. I keep a correspondence with them. They give me some news from the other fronts. I give them some in return. It's kind of a little club we started about 7 years ago when we all started flying. It's nice to get messages from them once in a while."

"Can I see it?" I asked.

"I don't have it with me anymore, we destroy the notes after we receive them."

"Why? If these are just some friendly letters, it doesn't make much sense that you would destroy them," Vixen accused, "You must be putting some sensitive material in there."

"That's true. We've been talking about some things, and about how we all disagree with the things that are currently going on," the Solo Wing pilot affirmed, "Bristow's been claiming that he's got a big group that wants to separate and started some World without Borders thing with some other guys to stop the war. I seriously doubt he could do it, or even have the support to carry out such a large thing."

"Would you join him if he did? Be honest with me Pixy," I said as I finished off the last of my cup of coffee.

"I don't think so. There's not been many ridiculous calls made by either side yet. If the Oseans or the Belkans went nuts, maybe, but most likely no."

"Can you promise me that?" I dared. I needed to know how far I could go with him.

"Yeah, I think I could."

"Good. I don't want you coming and trying to shoot me down alright?" I said with a good laugh, and Pixy did too. "Because if you did, I'd wouldn't hesitate to do the same you," I finished with a hunter's death stare at Solo Wing.

It was cold and silent at that moment, as if some great storm was coming. And I was in the center of it.

* * *

**Glossary:**

**AO: abbreviation for Area of Operation**

**Rittmeister: The German name for a cavalry squadron commander that translated over to the German Air Force in the First World War. Manfred von Richthofen was given this title when he was given command of Jasta 11, the famous flying circus squadron.**


	11. Chapter 11: A Step Towards Destiny

_Are we Faust?_**(****This is a little original poem I wrote. Sorry, no German pilot quote this time. And so, this belongs to me now, along with my original characters. )**  
_  
As I sit at the Rubicon,_  
_seeing the waters flow_  
_I understand the not,_  
_which I have never known._

_The Mighty Caesar crossed this river to show_  
_his fulfillment of the truth_  
_Showing he would go_  
_even with the presence of the noose._

_The river is life,_  
_from which we drink_  
_But others see it as a knife_  
_which stabs with no control, they think._

_Our lives are nothing more than songs,_  
_In the world's songbook_  
_Hoping it will be long enough,_  
_To be in a little nook_

_We must understand the words_  
_That came in our peak_  
_So we may be like the birds_  
_Free, a tremendous feat._

_But I ask one question_  
_for many do not know the answer,_  
_Are we not Faust?_  
_For this, is humanity's true cancer._

* * *

Ch.11 A Step Towards Destiny

-May 19, 1995 Schayne Plains-

Two days later, we were back in the air for another sortie, Operation Dynamo, targeting the second Belkan line of defense at the Schayne Plains. Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero had scrambled before us at about 0900 hours to participate in the Alpha and Beta Team assaults on the air bases. Pixy and I scrambled around 1030 hours to take part in the final part of the operation, securing air superiority in the Theta Team part of the assault.

We entered the AO at approximately 1230, met by grey skies, and thin low level cloud cover. Alright for dog-fighting.

"This is Galm 1 and Galm 2. Now entering combat zone, Eagle Eye," I said.

"Roger Galm 1 and Galm 2. Targets are now marked on the scope. Approximately 25 fighters are roaming the area. You are to take them out. Galm 3, 4, and 5, are now back under your command.

"I copy, Double E. Where are they now?" I asked with a hint of worry in my voice.

"They are currently moving to your position. Give them about 30 seconds, over."

"Roger."

I waited a few seconds on cruise at about 30,000 feet waiting for the gang to catch up too us. It wasn't long until I heard them.

"Hey Cipher, glad to see you could join the party!" Buzzard called.

"Ready for some real action?" I responded.

"Can't wait, pal."

"You do ok, Vixen?"

"Yeah, managed to bag three Mig 29's. So, I'm an ace now."

"Well congratulations!" I replied "But don't let that get to your head. We still have work to do."

"I copy Cipher, let's show them what Galm can really do," my companion answered as she took up her position in the formation off to my left. We were now rolling in a flying-V formation. It was the first time I really felt like I was in command of a real, legendary team. We had been hardened and honed by war. And now, we were ready to end it.

"Alright boys and girls," I began over the comm., "We have a lot of targets on the scope, so pick some and stick with it. Make sure you call out your targets so we don't have any collisions. Got me?"

A chorus of clicks came back to me.

"Good. I'm heading to the group of four to the far north. Everyone is clear to disperse and engage at will. If you have air-to-air special weapons, now's the time to use them. This is Cipher, now engaging enemy bandits."

"Roger, Pixy here, engaging."

"Vixen, engaging."

"Buzzard, engaging."

"Zero, engaging."

I hit the afterburners and put the Red Widow into a very low degree climb. I raced over the plains like a god of thunder, giving out a loud sonic boom as I passed Mach 1. I clutched the stick in front of me tightly as the four fighters came into my vision at my 10 o'clock low, F/A-18C's. I immediately put the Widow into a Split-S slamming myself with positive g-forces. The Widow was in the perfect position to fire, and I let off two slammers at the trail planes. I reversed and pushed into a 75 degree climb, and checked the damage in my mirror. Two blazing wrecks plummeted from the skies. The other two Hornets were completely in shock, and scrambling around to find me. Luckily, my stealth was good enough that they couldn't. I completed my climb at about 25,000 feet, and went back down again. As the speed indicator on my HUD continued to fly by at an exponential rate, I steadied my finger on the trigger on the stick. The number two plane now was in range at about 10,000 feet, and a little targeting reticule popped up on the glass. I lined it up with a second and immediately depressed the little switch. The cannon opened up and the tracers rocked through the air in front of me and made immediate contact. As soon as it was evident his plane was unable to continue, I broke off and went after the lead.

He dove and was running over the fields, causing a little dust storm in his wake. I stayed up and behind him. I let go a slammer on him, and he wasn't good enough to shake it. The altitude he was at, coupled with the impact, meant he hit the dirt unable to eject. I scowled at that. Why do we have to do this?

"Eagle Eye, my squadron's down, over."

"Good work Galm 1, the next nearest…"

The operator was cut off as I was attacked by a group of Mig-29 Fulcrums, riding towards me at my 8 o'clock. I hit the gas and pulled into steep climb, on full afterburner. I rolled and pulled into a hard reverse move. I pushed back down to try and attack the planes head on. But, the Belkans had anticipated my move, and were still on my tail.

"Hey Pixy! Mind giving me a little room?" I asked as I punched through another hard turn.

"On my way, buddy," the Solo Wing pilot immediately replied.

Within ten seconds I could hear explosions behind me as I saw several heaps of wreckage fall from the sky.

"Thanks for the assist, Pixy."

"Anytime."

I climbed high back up to around 35,000 feet, my head on a swivel. I scooted over in my seat and reached my right hand down to the left side of the cockpit to grab my monocular. As I grabbed it, my plane was struck by cannon fire, and I was now stuck hunched over away from the stick.

"Vixen! Anyone! I'm stuck away from the stick, and the Belkans are on me! I need help!" I frantically screamed into the radio.

"I'm coming Erich!" Vixen shouted back, "Just hang on!"

I was tugging hard with my right arm to try and get loose, but nothing was working. The shots were bouncing all around me, and I was lucky that I wasn't getting hurt. In desperation, I threw my chest back with all my strength, and managed to get myself free. There was a Hornet hot on my tail. I rolled and did a Split-S which the Belkan followed easily. I then climbed up again, and pulled hard to face him head on. He hadn't reacted quickly enough, and I managed to score a direct hit into his fuselage. As the wounded bird sped past me, the canopy blasted off, and a little white chute came out in the air over it.

"I'm alright Vixen, I got him, whew!" I said relieved. I wiped my face off, which had been covered in a nervous sweat, and continued on the mission.

"Erich you need to be more careful with your arm, you're not quite as flexible as you used to be," Vixen worriedly answered.

"I know, I know. Just don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Oh sure! I know for a fact you can't even tie your shoes."

"You're right about that," I retorted glumly. "Hey Eagle Eye, how's it looking?"

"All clear on my end, we have another squadron coming in to mop-up. Galm Team is clear to RTB immediately."

"Roger Eagle Eye."

Then all of a sudden a great white flash came from the heavens. The squadron that was coming into the AO was caught in whatever it was, and were gone. Just...gone.

"What was that?" I called.

"It's that thing from two days ago at Hydrian!" Buzzard cried.

"Eagle Eye, sit-rep!" I angrily ordered.

"What you just saw is the firing of the Belkan defensive tactical laser system, Excalibur. It can fire at any location within it's operational range every 20 seconds. I think I can make the target zone show up on your radar."

"Thanks, we need all the help we can get! Alright guys, get your butts in gear! We are leaving!" I replied as everyone formed up on me.

A red circle then appeared on the radar a couple thousand feet in front of us.

"BREAK LEFT!"

We all swerved simultaneously and a big beam burned into the space where we would of been. It actually was following us to an extent, so we put the machines onto full combat power in response. The whole squadron continued this dance. In our exfil to the south, we never moved directly south. Our tactic was to move in a zig-zag fashion so that we could know exactly where the laser was firing and avoid it.

"HARD RIGHT NOW!" I boomed.

The birds all banked to the west and avoided the fire. Then all of a sudden, it stopped.

"Your clear of the zone, Galm Team, good work," the AWACS controller rattled off.

I fell back into my seat, and relaxed. That was some real flying. Vixen scooted her Viper close towards me in the formation and gave me a worried look.

"What?" I shot back, "I'm fine. Just tired."

"You had me really worried today, Erich," she replied, "I think it's time you got your prosthetic."

"No. No, no. I'm not doing that," I scowled back, "I can do this without it."

"Be realistic, Erich," she answered tenderly, "You aren't going to last long without it."

I took a look at old stumpy, and shook my head. She was right.

"Fine, but you're going to help me, ok?"

"Of course Erich, I'll help you the whole way."

* * *

-Valais AFB 2000 hrs-

I had been put under again for the operation for my prosthetic. It was supposed to be some new, fancy thing that would actually be able to replicate a real arm. So, after I gave my consent, Dr. Richter went to work to get it attached.

My eyes opened again, in the very same bed, and the very same building that I woke up in when my arm was removed. Vixen was at my right side, and was pleased that I woke up with no problems.

"You feeling ok, Schlafmütze(sleepy-head)?" she giggled.

"Yeah," I said as I rubbed my eyes, "Not too bad." As I did so, the prosthetic had actually come up on instinct just like I had always had it left. It was a metallic black color, and actually was structured similar to a real human arm and hand, with fingers and all the like. "Vixen, it's already working!"

"That's great Erich!" Vixen said as she gave me a small hug. Right at that moment, Dr. Richter came in, and looked much brighter than our last encounter. Vixen quickly pulled away from the hug in embarrassment, but the doctor took no heed of it.

"Ah, Herr Völler, and Frau Ickx!" the old man warmly greeted us shaking both of our hands firmly. "I take it the arm is good?"

"Very!" I replied "It's already up and running."

"Wonderful, it's just how we expected it. The Gründer team who built that, did it especially for you," the doctor continued.

Mentally, I cringed at those words. Gründer. The men who were betting in this war. Based on the fact that they built this for me, told me enough about what side they were on.

"I better get going, Doctor," I said as I got up with no troubles.

"Good luck to you both, keep me posted on how it feels, Major. Just come back if you have any troubles."

"I will, thanks for the help," I answered as he left. I was able to put my own clothes on by myself for once. But Vixen still slapped my hat on my head and buttoned up my great-coat for me.

"I'm not letting you totally make yourself independent again!" she playfully remarked as we headed out of my little space.

"Yeah…" I started, but stopped as soon as I walked out from the dividers. Last time I was here, there were rows upon rows of wounded soldiers. But now, they were gone. When we got to the door of the building I asked one of the guards where they all had gone.

"They moved them up to Directus, they got the hospitals there up and working now. They're much better off now."

"That's a relief, thanks," I admitted.

I walked out into the darkness and the cold, and grasped my cane tightly. I felt I had the world at my fingertips now, ready to take on the worst the Belkans could throw at me. But as it turned out, the worst would come from my own side. As soon as we reached the team hangar under the light of a half moon, a low ranking lieutenant I had never seen before came in. He had black eyes, and perfectly in regulation brown hair. He looked rather nervous. "Where is Major Völler?" he meekishly asked.

"I'm here," I answered as I turned around to face him.

"I have been instructed to order you to report to the base commander, Colonel Henry Perrault at once."

"Excuse me, but did you say that Colonel Henry Perrault was the base commander?"

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded with beads of sweat swarming down his face.

"What happened to General Chennault? I thought he was the one in charge around here," I snapped, "Shows what I know."

The lieutenant glanced around nervously, and beckoned Vixen and I to come in closer. "They kicked him out."

"What?" Vixen replied with a look of horror, "Why?"

"It was about the Belkan pilot. The General Staff wanted him executed on the spot. Since Chennault said no, they relieved of his duty and put him in a desk in Oured. I'm sorry, I'm not happy about it either. I heard he was a great commander," the lieutenant sulked.

"Hey kid, what's your name?" I said trying to open the kid up a little bit, and ease the tension.

"Walker, Nick Walker," he replied looking up with less gloom in his eyes.

"I'm Erich, and this is Vicki. You can call us that, and don't worry about the rank."

"Ok," Nick happily responded, "Nice to meet you both."

"Our pleasure," Vixen beamed, "Do you mind leading the way?"

"Of course not, right this way."

We headed off to the GHQ, to meet the new man in charge. We quickly reached the largest building on the base, and I was immediately rushed into the commander's office, Chennault's old office. The once pristine room was now covered in trash and junk, quite opposite of the way it was before. The Colonel was sitting in the chair behind the old commander's desk. He was facing the other way looking out into void of the mountains from his window. The door closed loudly behind me.

"Sit down, Major."

"I'll stand," I boldly proclaimed.

"That's not a request, Major."

"Neither is mine."

He quickly spun around and I got a good luck at the man who was going to be in charge of my world for the rest of the war. He was more heavy-set than everyone else here, but not terribly so. He had to be in his mid 40's, and had black hair hidden under his blue peak cap. The Osean Colonel's Eagle rested above the brim. I was not looking forward to dealing with him.

"You will follow my orders, Major Völler, you Belkan half-life!" he screamed.

"Excuse me?" I yelled, "You're just a Osean schwein!(pig) You have no right to say that about me!"

"Oh really? After what you did with the Belkan Indigo pilot, I might as well write you up for treason," he replied with a devilish smile. I had to hold back all of my anger to not punch him square in the nose. "Now, sit down Major."

"I will not."

"Fine," he replied, "Guards!" Two MP's came in and stood behind me. "Make the Major have a seat."

They grabbed me by my shoulders and attempted to wrestle me into the chair. I responded by punching the one on the left in the groin with my right fist. I then swung around and broke the other one's nose with my prosthetic hand.

"I suggest we just get whatever you want to do over with," I snarled like an angry wolf, "Before I put all of your guards out for the next two months."

"Alright Major, fine," he answered as he got up. The MP's quickly scrambled out of the room to avoid more pain from me, or more punishment from this devil. This guy was a dictator. No one from Galm was going to like him. "This is why I asked you to come here. You now belongs to me."

"Well, that's wrong. Ploesti owns me," I snidely shot back.

"Well, I'm the one who holds the pay over your head," he hissed. I gulped at that. The bastard! "As I was saying, my word is law around here now. If you disobey me further, or rebel against me, I will have you court-martialed and spending the rest of your life in prison. You got me?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Good, now get out."

I rushed out and came out with my face red with anger. I was about to bomb this building with my plane if I could help it. Vixen rushed to me, and stopped me.

"Whoa, Erich! That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea. He's a hard-rider. A Big-X."

"Oh, one of them. This can only go well. Is he..."

"Yeah, just as bad," I quietly agreed.

We walked back to the team hangar, and I took my seat in the saddle of the Widow. I just sat back and shook my head at the sky. Vixen climbed up the ladder on the side of the cockpit and stared at the stars with me.

"It's a shame isn't it?" I sighed.

"A real shame. Chennault was a good guy," she whispered, "I hope we can see him again after this."

"Yeah."

We just gazed silently at the stars for a little while. It was a welcome respite from the horror of earlier today. A little while later, three F-16C's came from the skies and landed. We watched them come over to the hangars, and Lothar rushed out to meet them with the crews. I caught sight of the emblem on tail. The purple Crow, clutching an arrow in it's beak.

"Those must be the new interceptors," I remarked as I climbed out of the Widow's cockpit. I followed Vixen over to the Falcons, and the pilots quickly hopped out. I met up with the squadron leader, a 25 year-old red-haired Erusean.

"Are ya Major Völler?" the squadron leader asked in a very heavy accent.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Good, didn't want to spend the whole bloody night searchin' the grounds for ya. We're the new pursuit squadron, Crow Team. I'm Scotty Emerson, my number two over there, the blonde headed lad, is Tommy Watkins. My number three, the little spry youngster, is Patrick James Beckett, we just call him PJ."

"Good to meet you," I responded as we shook hands, "The rest of my team are out for the night, so we'll have to get better acquainted in the morning. This is my number four Vicki Ickx."

"Ah, nice to meet you, lassie!" the squadron leader said as he vigorously shook her hand.

"Greetings," she warmly responded.

"So, what's the skinny on this place, Major? Ploesti didn't give us many details."

"The base itself and the crews are good, accommodations are decent, but the commander's a Big X."

"Excuse me for cutting in," the number two Tommy Watkins cut in, "But what's a Big X?"

"Yeah," the number three PJ chimed, "What's that?"

"Why don't you guys come to mess and get yourself some coffee to warm up? I'll tell you then," I answered.

We headed into mess, and got ourselves the drinks. We all sat down at a table, and I began the story.

* * *

-January 21, 1990 Heinzhollen Secondary School 1330-

The term originally comes from my days in school. I went to school in Heinzhollen, a small farming town. There were only two schools there, the primary and secondary schools. Big X came about on a cold, snowy day in January. The first time it truly came to life.

"Jens, push forward! Los!" I yelled.

We were practicing our tactics for the five-a-side football(soccer) league we played after school. We used recess as a time to get ready for the games which were at night. The team was mainly made up of my gliding buddies, Hans, Jens, and Dieter, along with another guy Erwin, who didn't fly but was a really nice guy. The gliding guys all pretty much looked the same as me, big Aryan northern Belkans, or Herzes as we are called. Erwin was a southerner, or a Neiyer. He was brown-haired and a little slim, more lanky. But, he was quick, very fast. And so, he played as our striker. I played in the attacking midfield directing the offense. Jens and Hans were our flankers and defenders, while Dieter was our goalie. We were a formidable team. We wore the famous Schwarz und Gelb(Black and Yellow), of the biggest northern club in Belka, Herzussia Dinsmark. Although not the most successful team in Belkan football history, they were one of the most formidable.

Jens laid the ball up in a perfect through ball for Erwin which skated smoothly across the snow, and he took a first touch shot at a goal, and the ball blasted into the top-right of the net, with Dieter unable to do anything. We all gave him a high-five and got ready to head back inside. As we started to put our things away, we started to hear some shouting. They were the other schoolkids, who were all Neiyers, the Southerners.

"Go back to your mud-huts Herzes! We don't want you here!"

"Damn Rats! Quit taking up our space!"

The shouts continued until finally their ringleader, a long black-haired six foot Neiyer, by the name of Rudolph Hess came out. He was flanked by four others, all decked in the red, blue, and white kits of the most successful team in Neiyerland region of Belka, Neiyern Lumen. They had won over 30 league titles and three world championships at this time. They were also bitter rivals of Herzussia Dinsmark. They both played in the big Krieg(war) derby, every year on New Year's Day. The Neiyers were especially bitter since Lumen had lost the game rather badly at the score of four to one in favor of Herzussia.

"Well looks like the bumblebees are out today!" Rudolph sneered.

"You ready to play for once?" I called back, "Or you guys going to chicken out again?"

"No, we play this time!"

"Let's go boys," I called as we headed back on to the pitch. I pulled on my black gloves, and put on my ski cap. I checked my laces, and did a quick jog to the other sideline. They were providing the ball, so we just readied ourselves in our formation. I stood right behind Erwin, and shook myself loose. Then they called for the coin toss. We never shook hands with them, in any game we played.

"What's your call?" the goalie for Rudolph's team, Bruno von Reidermann, announced.

"Tails," I announced, since I was captain. The coin skipped up into the air, and quickly returned to the icy earth. It was tails. "We'll take the second half kick-off," I announced.

We returned to our respective positions. A large crowd had gathered around the pitch. It almost felt as if we were at a real football match, and we were playing in it. One of the other kids on the outside was calling time, and blew his whistle to start the five minute first-half.

We shifted back into the four-man wall, and forced them to play it out to the sides. Their right flanker, Timo Uhlman, crossed the ball into the air on our left, trying to place it in the air for Rudolph to head it into the goal. Dieter, having none of it, quickly jumped and snatched the ball out of the air, right in front of Rudolph. We repositioned our formation for the attack, and Dieter played the ball to Hans who started with the ball, racing around on our right side. He managed to make their left flanker, Fritz Lübbecke, miss a slide tackle. Hans then passed the ball over to me, and I began my run, which led me straight into the path of the Neiyer's defensive rock, Ralf Öberheim. This guy was a physical monster, and could barrel over any player he wanted to. The only way I could beat him, was with tricks and finesse. I pulled out a Rainbow Flick, pushing the ball behind me and kicking it high over both of our heads. Before he could react, I was behind him, and heading one-on-one for the goal. Bruno was waiting for me, and was moving frantically around the box trying to get me to lose my concentration. I drew my right leg back, and fired a cracker of a shot, which sped at a break-neck speed into the top-left side of the net. I ran over to the left side of the field where the majority of the crowd was and put my hands to my ears, in a 'I can't hear you' celebration, as the boys all piled on top of me and pushed me into the snow.

We soon got back up and back into positions for them to kick off again. We were ready to push the advantage. Right before the whistle blew, we all began sprinting towards the center circle. As soon as the ball was kicked, I performed a standing tackle, and pushed the ball out from under Rudolph's feet. I quickly passed it forward in a lob to Erwin, who chested it. He then let the ball drop, rotated and fired a volley from about 30 yards out from the goal. The shot hit the ground right in the box, and skidded abnormally due to the ice, and beat Von Reidermann into the bottom right hand corner of the net.

We all rushed over to Erwin, and he was doing his typical 'Shhh!' celebration. I gave him a slap on the back as we returned for another kick off. The whole playground was silent. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. We were demolishing them.

With the score at two to zero, Rudolph then changed their formation putting the tank, Öberheim, up front.

"Scheiße! Hans, Jens! Up front!"

We quickly swapped and went into an ultra-defensive formation pushing our big guys up front to keep Öberheim out. It worked. For ten seconds. As soon as the whistle blew, the tank took the ball, and stormed past them both, knocking them flat onto their backs. Me being next, I quickly took the only choice I could and tripped the big guy. He fell flat on his face about 25 yards from goal. I took the punishment from the ref, a yellow card, and we readied for the free kick. Uhlmann stepped up and delivered a rocket that Dieter couldn't save. The Neiyer crowd went into mass jubilation as they were now back into the game. At the next kickoff, they scored immediately, with Rudolph stealing the ball from Hans, and taking a long shot over on the left, which curved and swept past Dieter into the bottom right of our net.

"Erich! We can't let them play their game!" Dieter shouted.

"Put us back in the old formation!" Hans yelled, "We got this!"

I nodded and we adjusted back into the original formation. Erwin was up front and ready, but then the whistle for halftime blew. We rushed over to the benches and took big gulps of water, and shook ourselves dry. I put my training pullover-jacket on to try and warm up a little, but the Neiyers were pelting us with snow the whole time so we couldn't get dry. We were shivering cold when we took positions for the second half kickoff which was ours.

I stood next to Erwin for the kickoff. The whistle blew and he tapped the ball over to me. I spun around and passed the ball behind me, and to my left to Jens.

"Same thing as practice! Los! Los!" I called.

Jens smirked as he made Uhlmann miss with a perfect Roulette spin, placing the ball at his feet with only Öberheim to beat. Jens quickly pushed the ball between the monster's legs and raced around him to catch the ball. Erwin was wide open in the middle. Jens passed it over to him in the same fashion as before. Erwin took the ball and was about to shoot, when Rudolph came over and pile-drived him into the dirt. Erwin went down screaming in pain. The referee gave Rudolph an instant red card, which meant he was out. But, the feisty Neiyer wasn't finished, and a full out brawl between the teams broke out. I had Rudolph one-on-one. I quickly drove into his legs with my shoulders, and pushed him down. I delivered an uppercut, and in an instant he shook me off, but not before I delivered two kicks to his face with my cleats. It cut his face very badly, and now a blood-red X was on his face. He didn't get up after that, and the teachers came in to restore order. None of my guys got into big trouble since we didn't start the fight. It felt nice to get back at the Neiyern jerks for once. After that, all of my guys started calling Rudolph Big-X, for that mark. Whenever any of us encountered a similar character, we called him a Big-X too. That's where the name came from.

* * *

-Present Day, Valais AFB 2200-

"Wow, that's a story!" PJ remarked.

"You sound like quite the footballer, Erich," Crow's squadron leader, Scotty responded, "Did you ever get any offers to play for any professional clubs?"

"Yeah, I got an offer to play for Lumen's youth development team. I turned it down, mainly because I hate them, and I wanted to fly more."

"Why'd you never tell me that, Erich?" Vixen asked.

"I wasn't important. It never really had an impact on my future. I watch football sometimes on the side. But, I don't regret not playing anymore. You get hurt pretty bad playing, if you're unlucky."

"You got that right," Tommy, Crow's number two declared, "My best mate got his ACL torn so bad he couldn't play anymore. At 18!"

"Geez," I said as I winced at that thought. I checked my watch and it read 2210. "You guys probably want to get some rest. I'll show you to your quarters."

We all walked off, and I smiled at the thought of my new friends. It seems in every situation there is good and bad. You just have to focus on the good.

* * *

**Glossary:**

**Big X: Reference to the nickname of Squadron Leader Bartlett in The Great Escape(Played by Richard Attenborough). **

**Herzes: Equivalent to Northern Germans, or Prussians**

**Neiyers: Equivalent to Southern Germans, or Bavarians.**

**Herzuissa Dinsmark: Reference to Borussia Dortmund, the best football club in Germany! Echte Liebe!(They beat their big rivals Schalke 04 this weekend in the Rivierderby, 3-0. Great match since Dortmund has been struggling as of late.)**

**Neiyern Lumen: Refernce to Bayern Munich, the most successful club in Germany. (BOOOOO! Even Schalke is better, and we hate them a lot too!)**


	12. Chapter 12: The Birth of Man and Demon

Ch. 12 The Birth of the Man, the Birth of the Demon.

_War is the continuation of politics by other means._

_Carl von Clausewitz_

* * *

-May 23, 1995 Valais AFB 0945 hrs.-

The past couple of days had been hectic, mainly in getting the Crow squadron up to speed. I ran a lot of tactic and dog-fighting drills with them, trying to get them comfortable with everyone's flying style and our way of air combat. While I watched them fly, I discovered the skill of Crow squadron was inversely related with the command structure. Scotty was a barely passable fighter pilot, while Tommy was decent and caught with no serious troubles. PJ though was in a totally different league, definitely on the fringe on being close to Pixy and myself. I didn't tell them this, mainly because I didn't want to start any animosity from the others towards him, and he was already barraged enough with the teasing he was getting over his girlfriend who was staying on base as a nurse. PJ was really something, and I was tempted to give him a promotion to my group. But, I dismissed the thought. He needed some time to improve and adjust better to the new tactics.

That morning I was in the mess trying to get my brain to wake up with a cup of coffee, when the alert came in for the briefing. I quickly threw away my tonic, and rushed that way, my Rittmeister cane pounding ominously into the tile floor. Vixen quickly caught up to me, and we silently acknowledged each other's presence as we arrived for the briefing, about five minutes early. Everybody else was already there, and I was relieved that they were getting along rather well. Scotty and Buzzard became fast friends, and teased each other over the Usean-Erusean rivalry constantly. Tommy had made friends with Zero, with Crow 2 actually getting him talking more than his usual four sentences a day. PJ was busy taking in some knowledge from Pixy, since he tried to hang out more with people like himself, the true fighter pilots. They all turned and gave a salute as I entered the room, and I quickly waved them off.

"Don't do that guys," I said shooing away the attention, "I'm not that much of a prick, am I?"

They all had a good laugh at that as the call for attention came and we spun to face the front of the room as the Colonel came in, looking rather full of himself.

"At ease, let's get this show going for once."

We silently sneered at him as the lights went out, and the business-as-usual briefing began.

"This is your target," the Colonel stated as a blurry black and white image of a menacing tower appeared behind him, "This is the laser system that attacked you over Schanye, Excalibur. We believe it to be a Belkan anti-aircraft defense chemical laser weapon developed as a missile defense system. According to our information, the strike zone is heavily guarded by a jamming facility and multiple anti-aircraft artillery units. Your objective is to destroy Excalibur. But to do that, you must first neutralize the jamming facility and the anti-aircraft artillery. You all will be armed with Air-to-Ground munitions, since there is no threat of aerial defense according to our forward scouts. Interceptors will also be armed with attacker loadouts."

"Sir, I don't think that's wise," I warned, "The Belkans probably know we're coming due to the scouts. They're not going to let their prized aerial defense system fall without any type of air support. I request that the interceptors load-outs be changed back to an air superiority load, sir."

"Negative Major," he proclaimed, "I am certain there will be no such need for that. The interceptors will be armed to my orders. If that is all, you're dismissed."

The room went to attention as he headed out, with the Colonel not even returning it. I quickly gathered everyone outside of GHQ, and gave them my own briefing.

"Alright everyone, listen up. We're throwing those armament orders right out the window," I informed the team, and they all nodded in approval, "Buzzard, Vixen, and Zero, you'll carry the AG stuff."

"Roger Boss, you got it," Buzzard answered.

"Pixy, Crow Team and myself will take on the AG munitions, but we'll jettison it after we take off. The plan is to put them into the valley, so no one gets hurt. Everything else is the same. You got it? Good. Let's show the good Colonel that they shouldn't mess with us on my birthday."

The team dispersed and all ran off to their respective planes, and I rapidly mounted the Red Widow with ease. I strapped myself in, and Lothar gave me my trademark black and gold helmet.

"Good luck today, Erich. Go earn that leave you got waiting for you," the mechanic shouted as the turbines started up.

I gave him a thumbs up, and gave the wave-off signal to clear the space in front of me, and clear the menagerie on the plane. I put the girl into motion, and started the parade of expensive birds down to the end of the runway. I checked the count and made sure there were seven planes behind me. When I completed that, I contacted the tower to begin the takeoffs.

"Tower this is Galm 1, requesting takeoff for my team and Crow Team, runway 9, over."

"Roger Galm 1, you're clear for takeoff. Good luck, and happy birthday."

"Thanks tower, Galm 1 copies all."

I gently pushed the throttle to the max level as I was pushed back into my seat by the G's. I tugged back on the stick and pulled into a gentle climb. As I did so, I switched the weapon arm to on, and selected the AG munitions I had, and toggled for a jettison release. As soon as we formed up, I turned off with Pixy and Crow. We dove low for the dirt, and I readied my finger on the release. At about 7,000 feet, and at a 30 degree angle dive, we were go.

"Mark!"

The missiles all streaked away from our planes, snaking towards the snow covered earth. They impacted smack dab in the center of the valley, safely away from the base.

"Alright make course for Vector triple zero," I ordered as I turned back to the north, "Today, we change the war."

-May 23, 1995 Five minutes out from Excalibur in Belka, 1105 hrs-

"Thanks for the fill-up Rhino," I called as I finished the air-refueling with the KC-135.

"Roger Galm 1, good luck out there."

I rolled down and out of the way, and at last the refueling was done. The Widow felt to me like she was uneasy, and I didn't blame her. I was scared too. The laser system's tower was finally appearing on the murky horizon. We were lucky it wasn't raining. It would be a lot worse of a fight with the rain messing with our heads.

"Hey PJ, you need to tell her how you feel!" Tommy called.

"Yeah, someone's going to take her away if you're not careful!" Scotty jested at Crow 3.

"Now's not the time for this guys!"

I was looking forward and started to see a small glow on the horizon. I looked back at everyone, and the Tanker hadn't left yet.

Oh shit, They're screwed!

"Everyone Scramble! Disperse! MOVE IT! The Laser's firing!"I called even before the AWACS was able to pick up. The mass of planes swarmed away from the tanker, and in an few seconds, the Extender was burnt into ashes. There was no time to react to the carnage, as we needed to hit this thing immediately. "Alright ground-pounders, you're going to make one long sweep, east to west, and hit the jammers in the lower area all in one go. From the radar it looks like there's choppers. Crow team, you're going to take them out and keep the ground-pounders safe."

"Roger," Buzzard replied, "We're moving."

"I copy, Galm 1," Scotty replied, "And my tac-callsign is Jericho, by the way."

"Roger, Jericho."

"And mine is Fox," Tommy added.

"Roger, Fox. Keep them safe Jericho."

"No worries Cipher."

"And that leaves you and me, Pixy," I said as I looked over at the solo-wing Eagle.

"What are we doing, buddy?"

"Distracting the laser."

"You can't be serious, that thing will decimate us up close!"

"Have I kidded around on sortie before?"

"No."

"Then let's move it!"

We rose right up to about 15,000 feet and put ourselves right in front of the laser tower. It was a menacing monstrosity, colored in a midnight black. This was the machine that had taken so many lives. It was time for some good 'ol retribution, Ustian style. I rocked my wings and pushed myself in close to make sure their firing operators saw me, and knew who was knocking on their door. About 10 seconds later, I saw the top of tower begin to light up again.

"Alright, circle!" I ordered, and Pixy and I hit the afterburner moving around the tower counter-clockwise. To our luck, the plan worked. The laser could only fire in one horizontal direction within it's firing circle, but it could move up and down. We knew its weakness. With that out of the way, I checked back in on the ground attack.

"How's it going bird-brain?" I called in on the comm.

"Hey, stuff it!" Buzzard called, "We're doing great, if you're desperate to know."

"Uh-huh. How long until all the jammers are out?" I asked.

"About 2 minutes, Boss."

"Why have you started calling me Boss, Buzzard?"

"I don't know. It fit."

I pondered that thought as we drew another shot from the laser. It was now locked firing north towards Belka, and I could tell they were getting frustrated. They began firing so much they were taxing their generators, which were emitting more and more fumes as we passed over them.

"Ok boys," Jericho reported in, "The jammers are down."

"Roger, Crow 1," Eagle Eye butted in, "Next line of targets are now available for attack. The generators around the structure must be destroyed before attacking the main tower. Get to work teams."

"Roger Double E. Alright ground-pounders, munitions check, how are you doing?"

"We've got enough to finish the job, Cipher," Vixen replied, "Hopefully. I've got six, Buzzard has five, and Zero has six as well."

"Good. Get after the generators," I instructed as my attention went back to my radar. A few moments later, five blips came up from the north, moving fast towards our location. My bet had been right on the money.

"Galm 1..." Eagle Eye began.

"I got them. PJ! You're coming with me and Pixy!" I yelled.

"Roger Cipher, let's get them!"

"Jericho, Fox, you keep a CAP going. If any of these guys break through, you're free to engage."

"Roger, Cipher, we'll keep an eye on 'em," Jericho quipped.

I switched over the frequency to see who would be our sparring partners for the day.

"This Silber One, targets in sight. They're fast. Follow them. This will be your final lesson!"

A chorus of rogers came back at the squadron leader ,and the Belkan formation finally came into view. A F-4 was leading the show with four Falcons, all painted white with black and grey tiger stripes. This was Silber no doubt, and the old man Dietrich Kellerman was in the firing line. Recruitment levels must of been bad if they needed him back.

"Pixy, PJ you take the Falcons. I'm dueling with the Phantom."

"Roger Cipher, show 'em what you got buddy!" Pixy said. The Solo Wing Eagle and PJ's Falcon broke off quickly broke off to start their fights. It left me alone. One-on-one. It almost harkened back to the days when this warfare began eighty long years ago, the old dogs. It reminded me of my father. I bowed my head and whisphered a small prayer.

"If you're watching dad, give me strength, give me courage, and give me clarity. I've never forgotten. I never will." When my head rose, I was not the same man. I was different, possessed by the fire inside my head that had refused to rage for so long. All the pent up anger, all the pent up sorrow, it came out of me at that moment. And it made me stronger.

I slammed the throttle forward on the left giving it full-juice. I rose into the heavens, above the clouds, and I rolled and did a Split-S and was on Kellerman's tail. He raced up again, trying to shake me, but I kept a close eye on him. He tried to Immelmann, but I hit the brakes and turned even tighter than he could. Kellerman then dove, and two Falcons were coming right at me. I flipped on the arm for my sidewinders, and locked them both up. I could see the missiles from the Falcons streaking my way. I mashed the fire button, rolled onto my belly, and dove hard. Both of the Falcons went down behind me, and the chase was back on. Initially, I overshot him as he climbed again. I didn't follow and readjusted to an altitude of about 30,000 feet. I cracked my neck, and waited for him to come to me. After a minute or two, he realized this started coming my way. Then, instinctively, I changed over to general comms.

"Kellerman, if you can here me, I suggest that you leave with your dignity intact. I don't want to tarnish the career of a great man."

"Was? Du bist tu?"(What? Who is this?)

"Der Rote Teufel,"(The Red Devil) I replied. It was silent for a little bit, then he resumed his attack. "It's your loss, Kellerman. You're defending a gamed system, a corrupted country. I'm sad to hear you believe in that, I thought very highly of you. I guess you don't think the same."

I gunned towards his Phantom and pulled back as hard as I could on the trigger of the cannon. The shots punctured into the famed airframe, and I was crying inside. I raced behind him, and reversed immediately. I rode right behind him. I just sat there, letting his defeat sink in. And then, he ejected. The plane slowly fell, and disappeared through the clouds. I couldn't control myself as I wept. This was mindless, senseless fighting. Why did I have to do this to him? What does this accomplish, making him do that in disgrace?

"Why didn't I listen you dad?" I said out loud as I wiped the waters of humanity from my eyes. I steadied myself once again, as Excalibur still needed to be dealt with.

"Pixy you done?" I sternly called, a hint of anger permeating through the radio.

"Roger Cipher, you still alive?"

"For now. Form up. We're breaking Belka's sword."

We formed up just above the clouds to the north of weapon. We put ourselves in a slight dive, and prepared to fire.

"We're going to use cannons. Nothing more," I instructed.

"Roger Cipher, we'll show 'em!" PJ exclaimed with an innocence that I had lost long ago.

We broke through the clouds and I saw the other guys swarming all over Excalibur, and it was struggling to keep up the fire.

"Everyone move! We're coming in for our run!" I shouted.

"Erich, what are you doing?! You don't have any AG weapons!" Vixen barked at me with anger and worry.

"Wrong. I've got my gun, and I'm going to end it with my gun. Open fire!"

A flurry of 20mm fire was now directed at the laser's tower, and it instantaneously turned the whole situation upside down. The tower was leaking fire, from the holes we made, and was now leaning over towards the east. The sword was ready to be shattered.

"Pixy, PJ break off."

"What? What are you doing, buddy? You can't do this alone!" my wingman shot back.

"No. I will do this alone."

I reversed as the other two reluctantly moved away. I came in from the south this time, heading for the top of the tower. I smashed my finger into the trigger, and the lead came out again, spitting hot rain at the tower of lies. It ripped Excalibur to shreds, and eventually it began to fall. The tower slumped to the dirt, Belka's greatest weapon sunk, dead. We were one more step closer to going home. Another weapon of evil was gone. A great pressure was lifted from my shoulders.

And with that, everyone was celebrating. I wasn't. I was deathly still the whole flight back. Vixen tried to rouse me out of my state, but to no avail. I was at a total loss for words. I still felt terrible, and I needed some time alone on the ground to right myself.

I'll tell her when we start flying towards her place, I thought to myself, It'll be easier then.

We landed back at Valais three hours later. I got out of the Widow and stood in silence next to the nose of my bird. As soon as Lothar walked up to me, I threw my helmet down and cracked it on the pavement of the hangar. I took my walking stick and crushed hat from him and stormed off. There was no expression on my worn face. I had a lot more wrinkles than I did a year ago, my eyes were much more heavy set than they were before as well. I looked like a totally different person than I did when I enlisted. I was a wreck.

I went down to the end of the runway where we had that remembrance for Tiger, which seemed like such a long time ago. I bowed my head again, and said another little prayer, hoping my dad was there with me. "I'm sorry dad, I should've listened when you said those things to me. I was foolish to not believe you. If you're listening dad, I hope you forgive me. I'm sorry I killed you. My actions have caused so much pain." Suddenly, I heard somebody's steps behind me, and I turned to look. It was Vixen, her face full of a mixture of emotions, anger, sorrow, worry, and every other one you could name. When I turned my face back to the valley, I started to speak again. "I'm an ugly wreck, aren't I?"

"No," she shot back, "If you were a wreck, you couldn't of whipped everybody here into the best squadron the world has ever seen."

I chuckled, "Yeah, at the cost of my own sanity."

"What?" she replied, "Don't tell me that, Erich! You and I both know that's bullshit! Listen to me!" She grabbed onto my shoulders and turned me around. "Erich, you've got to stop beating yourself up over this, ok? You're only going to make it worse for yourself. And stop with that nonsense about you regretting doing this, because without it, we wouldn't have ever met. So, keep your chin up Erich. I know you can do this."

I smiled at her with tears running down my cheeks. I grabbed onto her and pushed my head into her left shoulder as I cried. She softly sat me down onto the tarmac and stayed with me there for a good hour. I finally stopped sobbing, and she helped me back to my feet.

"You ready to go do something fun for once, birthday boy?" she called, "I got your present waiting for you at my place, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. Let's get going before Perrault tries to rub his authority in my face again."

I walked back to the team hangar, immediately making my way over to Lothar who was busy trying to fix my helmet. My famed hunk of plastic now had a crack running along the right side.

"Lothar, it's fine. I'll wear it like that."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll wear my scars proudly. I'm not hiding things like that anymore."

He gave it back to me, and he gave me a hug, "Good to see you're back with us. I'll get the Falcon ready for you."

"Thanks Lothar," I replied as he ran off. I stood there looking up to the stormy sky, and Vixen came over and took my right hand, holding it firmly. I looked over at her, and kissed her on her forehead. "We go forward together, no matter what."

She smiled at that, and we looked back to the base as my old machine was rolled out once more. I walked to the machine and did a once over. I checked the storage pods for our stuff, and it was all there ready to go.

"I packed and stowed your things for you," Lothar said, "I figured you wanted to get out ASAP."

"Everyday you give a lot for us," I said to my mechanic, my friend,"Enjoy your time off, go see your dad while you still can."

"I might just do that," he replied with his mouth curling into a smile, "Take it easy Erich."

I mounted up and took my place in the front seat. We had a short hour long flight to a small regional airport to the south of Directus. Vixen had made the arrangement for our landing time at 1600. I checked my watch and it read 1455. I buckled myself in. I waved-off the crews and got the old girl moving. I moved down to the end of the runway and stopped.

"This is Cipher and Vixen, requesting permission for takeoff tower."

"Roger..." then I heard a scuffle over the radio, and a new voice came on.

"Galm 1, you will turn that plane around and report to me at once."

Perrault. No. Not this time.

"I have filed my leave months in advance, and it was already cleared. I know I have to be back by the 27th in four days. There was nothing I did wrong, sir."

"Negative, I need you to stay here on alert," the Colonel retorted, "It is my orders, and it countermands all previous commands! Now, get the hell back here Galm 1!"

"I can not comply."

"I thought I heard you wrong Major, say that again?"

"I can not comply with those orders. I'll gladly take my court-martial at a later date. I'm leaving."

I ignored the screams of the cold-hearted man that ran this base and headed to my real home, the skies. Once we were airborne, we headed along the same old flight path we used on almost every sortie heading for the front to the north. After a few minutes, Vixen broke the silence.

"Are you serious about the court-martial, Erich?"

"I won't let anyone stand in the way of us being together. That's just pathetic on his end. If it's about the ordinance crap, fine. If it's about anything else, fine. It can wait until I get back. This shit I can not tolerate."

"Now that's the Erich I remember," she replied softly.

The skies cleared, finally, the sun shining out from the lower part of the western sky. I stared over that way, taking in the warmth deep into my very soul.

Maybe I just need a few days where it's warm, I thought. I just need some time, alone. No. Together.

Later, we finally arrived at the airport in Gerensburg. I pulled out a little paper that had the jargon I needed to say for us to land.

"Gerensburg Tower, this is Falcon One Oscar Zulu Mike, requesting immediate landing on runway 10. We have been pre-cleared, over."

"Roger, Falcon One Oscar Zulu Mike, the runway's clear for you. Welcome home."

I lined the Falcon for landing, and cut the engines back. I lowered the flaps, and threw the lever for the landing gear, which locked in under the plane with a 'THUD'. I glided the old girl in and made a perfect landing. I slowed up, and was led off the line by the ground crew. They led us over to one of the maintenance hangars, and helped us out. I locked the canopy release up, and grabbed my bag from the storage pods. As we left, they locked up the hangar behind us.

"Don't worry, I've know these guys a long time. This is what I did when I came back on leave after Sapin."

"Alright, are your parents here yet?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" she asked as she turned to face me.

"What happened?"

"I got my own place in downtown Gerensburg now, with the money I got from Ploesti."

"Wow, really? I better check what I made too!" I replied.

"Come on, we can do that later, my car's over here." She had a little black hatchback made by VolksAuto, not one of the most reliable cars in the world mind you, and we all piled our things in the trunk. "My parents will be coming over for dinner though, is that ok?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good," she replied as we got in and she started the car. Vixen shifted into first gear and we were off. After a short ten-minute drive we were in the center of the town and she parked in an alley behind one of the big buildings in the main square. Gerensburg was a lot like what Heinzhollen used to be like, small, rustic, but with modern accommodations. We walked up a small staircase up the back side of one of the bigger buildings to a door on the second floor. Vixen quickly unlocked it, and we headed inside. It was a rather nice two bedroom apartment with a big kitchen with a dining area, a large living room, and panoramic windows showing views of the old square.

"What'cha think?" she asked as she threw her bag on the floor.

"Not bad, Vixen! Didn't know you took this much to the bank!"

"Yeah, the pay's actually been good. You should check tomorrow when you have time."

"I will," I said as I looked at my watch it read 1615, "When are your parents going to be here?"

"About half an hour. It gives me time to give you your present, I'll be right back ok? Don't stray off," she said as she headed back out the door.

"Fine, fine," I replied. Now, I was alone. I took a seat on the couch facing the window looking out into the square, and threw my bag on the floor in front of me. I laid my head back and tried to relax, but my mind was really taxed. I closed my eyes to rest a little, and it worked somewhat. A few minutes later I heard some barking outside somewhere, and it woke me up from my light nap. I looked around and then closed my eyes again, thinking it was nothing. Then, Vixen came back as I heard some pattering on the floor and panting.

She did not, I thought. No way!

I turned around and next to Vixen at about hip height was a dog.

"Is that..." I barely managed to get out.

"Yes, he's all yours."

I got up and walked over to him. He was a beautiful black shepherd dog, a Wielvakian one, especially with the short black fur with brown streaks snaking along his back. His tongue was shaking out of his mouth as he gave me his bright black eyes in his stare. I took a knee in front of him. He didn't stir from his happy state. He just looked at me like a friend, like I had never done anyone wrong. I had an uncontrollable grin on my face. I stood back up and gave Vixen a big hug.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. This...this is incredible," I whisphered.

"I figured you'd like it."

"And now, what to name you..." I pondered over what to call my hund(dog), and instantly a name came to mind. It was the name of my dad's dog from before I was born. Moritz. "How's Moritz sound, boy?" The hund barked in reply, and he jumped up on his hind legs to lick my face. I was ok with some slobber. "Good!" I laughed.

"Oh, I got this too. When your house, you know..." she said trying not to stir up those memories, and handed me a key. "You wrote in some paper your dad made, that in case he died and the house was lost, your things would be moved to my parent's place. When I moved, I moved it here. You want to go check on it?"

"Sure, why not."

We headed back outside, with Moritz in tow. There was a small garage in the alleyway, and she pushed the door open. Behind it was the front of a big cargo shipping container, which took up most of the space of the garage. I walked up to it, and put my key in the padlock and twisted it. The lock dropped off, and the big, hulking steel doors opened. I walked inside with my jaw dropping at the contents of it.

"I totally forgot about this!" I exclaimed as I gazed at what was inside. To put it bluntly, it was a car.

A 1974 TRW 2002 Turbo to be exact, my dad's, and he had bought it brand new in 1974. It was painted in a matte white, with the TRW racing colors of blue and red on the bumpers which also bared the 2002 moniker. I walked up to the car, and unlocked it with the key as well. In the back seat was a small box, and a rifle sleeve. I opened the small box first, and pulled out a pistol. A Walther PPK, along with a concealed holster. I quickly checked the magazine, and lo-and-behold there were rounds in there. I put the holster on under my jacket, and put the pistol in there as well with the safety on. I finally checked the sleeve, and found the old beauty herself. My hunting rifle. It was a scoped Belkan K98 long rifle, chambered in 8mm. There were two boxes of rounds in there, so I zipped it up quickly, since I wasn't going to openly carry that thing around town. Vixen stood in the doorway of the container along with Moritz and shook her head.

"What you jealous?" I teased her.

"A little, let's see if that car will start before you keep gloating."

"Right."

I walked around to the left side and squeezed myself in. I readied myself at the driver's seat and put the key in. I crossed my fingers, I heard the starter spinning as I turned the key. The turbo inline four immediately shouted to life, and I honked the horn for Vixen and Moritz to move. I floored the 170 hp motor and entered the alleyway, parking my car neatly behind Vixen's.

"Not bad, eh?" I said closing the door.

"Alright, alright. Quit your gloating. We have about 5 minutes before my parents get here, do you want to go get ready, in something other than your uniform?"

"Probably a good idea." I raced back up the stairs, rushing inside to grab my bag with Moritz hot on my heels. "Which bedroom am I in, Vicki?" I shouted.

"The one on the left side!" she replied from the alley.

I rushed in the room and began to change. It was going to be a long night.

**Glossary:**

**Wielvakia: My in universe refernce for the Netherlands.**

**Moritz: The name of Manfred von Richthofen's dog, who(shock, horror) was also a Dutch hound.**

**VolksAuto: Reference to Volkswagen.**

**TRW: Reference to BMW, the 2002 Turbo is a real car.**

**Walther PPK: James Bond's gun of choice in the early Sean Connery days, has resurfaced in the newer films too.**

**K98: German mainstay bolt-action rifle. In service in both world wars, though in WWII it was more common in a carbine, shorter form. The one Erich has is the WWI, longer length rifle.**


	13. Chapter 13: Der Reise

Ch. 13 Der Reise

_Only he is lost who gives himself up for lost- Hans-Ulrich Rudel, the most successful ground-attack pilot of all time. Flew a Stuka in World War II on the Eastern Front against the Soviets._

* * *

After it had gotten dark around 1900, we met up with Vixen's parents and headed off to dinner at a small restaurant about two blocks from the apartment, with Moritz in tow. This was the first time I had met Vixen's parents in person, and to be honest, I was genuinely surprised.

Her father was Werner Ickx, a stocky, 6 foot, black-haired gentle giant. Her mother was Nadine Cross, now Ickx of course, a small blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman with a Osean accent.

We were sitting at a table out on the street-side, and had already been served our beers. They all drank Weiß beers, or wheat beers, which were sweeter than the normal brews that bars served. It was a Neiyer speciality. One never would find a Wieß beer in Northern Belka, but if one looks hard enough, it is possible to get what I drink in the southern parts of Belka, a dark brau. The Neiyers didn't like the bitter taste, but in the Herzland, it was water. So, I of course drank a dark brau.

The conversation had been pleasant to my relief, mainly just small talk about myself. What really interested me though was Vixen's dad, Werner.

"So, how's the bionic arm treating you?" he asked. I hadn't even shown it to him, or even mentioned it to him. Odd.

"Fine? How'd you know?"

"I made it."

"Wait, you're at Gründer?"

"Yes, I work in the 'Badger Hole' the black ops R&amp;D arm of the company."

"How's that treating you?" I said as I took a sip from my big mug of dark brau beer.

He was silent for a moment, letting out a long breath, "It's one of the worst things I've ever been apart of."

"Why's that?"

"It's a damn mess. The whole company is more concerned about misleading the military into buying faulty hardware than actually making good stuff in the first place! I feel like I'm the only one there who knows what the hell they're doing."

"Sorry to hear that," I spoke as took another drink, "But, you designed the arm?"

"Yes, almost completely by myself. The structure and the material building was done by me, the only part I didn't do was the nerve linkage. That was done by a good friend of mine, Dr. Cristoph Strauss. I reeled him in on a favor."

"Well I thank you for that, but why did you do it in the first place?"

"I received a letter from Vicki detailing your situation. She said you were unwilling as of writing to get the arm, but she was doing her best to try and convince you. In the meantime she asked me to make it. I began my work and finished it quickly with Dr. Strauss's help. When you were ready, I had it delivered, and voila!"

"But, isn't that kind of odd, that a military R&amp;D builder made this?"

"Not really, Erich. We have to do some pretty crazy stuff sometimes."

"Like what?"

"Orbital laser systems, multiple re-entry spacecraft, Mach eight plus fighters, Artificial Intelligence, you name it, we probably have a project going for it. The blueprints for this were originally to augment already present limbs for increased strength in combat to punch through tank armor. I just re-acquired it and modified the design to fit your dimensions."

"So, I really did bail you out," Vixen said as she leaned into my shoulder.

"Thanks for that!" I replied as I pecked her on the cheek with a kiss.

Her parents laughed at that and we continued to have small talk over dinner. We were all sharing Bratwurst, sauerkraut, pasta, and some bread. It was some of the best food I had eaten in a while, and it was paid for! It was a very generous gesture, at least in my eyes, when someone will pay for your dinner. Moritz felt a bit left out, moping as he lay on the cobblestone ground. To cheer him up, I snuck him a piece of meat, much to the hund's delight, as he devoured it quickly. I smiled at the innocence of this dog.

He really is something, I thought.

About an hour later, I decided it was time to ask a big question of Vixen's father.

"Herr Ickx?"

"Hmm?" he replied as he finished off a small piece of brat, "What is it?"

"Do you know who's pulling the strings in all this? The war I mean. I've had my suspicions that there's a bigger game at play than just Belka. Something's going on with the global balance of power, and I have a hunch that Gründer's at the center of it. Are my fears unwarranted?"

"No."

"Could you tell me what's going on then, if groups like the Ofnir and Grabacr are involved with them?"

"No."

"Is it because of what they'll do?"

"Yes."

"Then forget I even asked."

"Hold on a minute," Werner interrupted as he looked into the street and rooftops around us. After a minute of hard stares, he seemed satisfied with his findings, and turned his attention back to me. "The reason I was so forthcoming about the information about my work is what I do on the side. I'm part of a organization called Valkyries, a group of Belkans and ex-pats from the newly independent territories. We're from the government, military, industry, everywhere. We're trying to figure out what's going on and helping to inform the public about it. We've been successful in rallying support, many of the Belkans are rising to stand with us. Unfortunately, right now I can't speak much more on it. If you want to know more and help us, I'd be glad to send you more information on what's going on when you head back to the lines."

"I'd be grateful for that Herr Ickx."

"Your welcome. Well we better get going, we'll see you later, nice seeing you Herr Völler."

We shook hands and her parents quietly walked off into the shadow of the night. Vixen and I just sat there a little while longer, and then we headed back to her place. We were silently pacing through the streets of Gerensburg, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye growing into the twilight heavens. Spires, big ones.

"Is that some sort of big Dom?" I asked.

"Uh-huh, the Dom of St. Paul. It's close to the size of the Directus Dom, but it's even more impressive, in my opinion."

"Can we go take a look?"

"Sure, it looks better at night with the lights on."

We turned off to the right and entered a empty courtyard facing the towering church. It was beautiful with the lights, the old stone shining beautifully, the saints and figures dotting the corners and towers, and the great oak door standing higher than several men's heights combined. The Dom did not fail to impress. We walked across the cobblestones to rise up the steps to the entrance. To my surprise the door was unlocked, and we headed inside with Moritz. I instinctively reached for my hat, which wasn't there, and recoiled in embarrassment.

Vixen quietly giggled, and whispered, "Don't worry, I did it too."

I turned and grinned back at her giving her a kiss. As I looked back to the front, the great altar stood tall, clad in gold and laden with candles and all sorts of things people had left in hopes for help from the spirit of St. Paul. The Dom was empty, no one was about, not even a lone priest keeping watch. It was eerie pacing through these spaces, loaded with history and remnants of the past, days of equal manipulation and terror. It was just the same as now. One group trying to control another.

We took a seat at the last row of benches facing the altar. I felt Vixen's soft hair touching my face and the weight of her head resting on my shoulder. It was very peaceful here, a welcome break. I picked up a bible from one of the little shelves in front of me. I opened it to a random page with a verse immediately sticking out to me from the old text.

'Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.'

James 1:12. I'd read that one before. My father had read that to me a long time ago when I was a child after I had been bullied severely by some of the Neiyers. It made me remember the last time I saw him, the final time I was in Heinzhollen.

* * *

-August 1, 1994 Heinzhollen, Ustio 1300hrs-

The shovel was done with its work and the grave had been covered. The famed Schnitter Ein lay resting at last. I had spared him from the indecency of hanging in the doorway forever. It felt so devastating to do that, to bury my own father. I cut a little wooden cross from some spare lumber in the barn and planted it into the dark soil over where his head rested. I seriously doubted that anyone would come here now, with the town razed looking for his grave, but it would mark the end of one of the greatest pilots to grace the skies. Buried in his own backyard, and killed at his own doorstep.

I stood up having finished my work. I began to walk away with my duffel bag slung over my shoulder and his jacket covering me. I glanced back at the resting place one last time, at the man I loved so dearly my whole life. Tears flowed down my cheeks and I said the two words that I had heard so many times come out of his mouth.

"Never hesitate."

Whether I was having trouble scoring in Fußball, or trying to get a few minutes more airtime out of my gliding flight, my father always said that in response.

"You have to be able to make choices without fail, in any situation Erich. There will be big decisions you will have to make in whatever you do. Just don't hesitate, and you'll be able to conquer all your fears. Stick to your own voice, your gut will guide you straight and true, every time."

I walked down the dirt road to the gliding club, which had been equally wasted. I remembered the fun I had flying with my friends in these skies, and now they seemed so hostile to me. As I arrived, I quickly made a big decision. I remembered the old hangar which, surprisingly, had been left untouched. I knew exactly what I needed to do. I was going to get his Me-109 out. The Gustav had to be saved.

I hurried over to the hangar and shoved the door open. I raced over to the Messerschmitt and threw my bag in the cockpit, proceeding over to the back end to check the fuel-tank. It had a full-tank of gas along with full drop tanks. "Thanks dad," I mused, thinking again about him.

I leaped up onto the wings, and I leaned down into the cockpit and found the starter lever, but I had some trouble trying to find the ignition switch.

"Where's the damn thing at?!" I spat in annoyance. I found it after a few moments of scrambled searching, on the bottom left-hand side of the cockpit. "The places they put these damn switches!"

I then returned to the front of the plane and grasped the propeller. I threw it down with all of my strength once, but nothing happened. I did it again, and to my fortune the prop sputtered to life, filling my mind with the childhood dreams I had of taking one of these birds up myself. I threw away the wheel chocks from under the plane, and I jumped back into the cockpit. The seat-belts were then fastened and I strapped on the old oxygen mask. I pumped the throttle a little giving the motor some juice. She sounded glorious.

The old grey bird rolled out onto the grass, pushed on by the spirit of her former master, guiding her every move. It almost felt like instinct, like I had flown this plane a thousand times before. I lined the old girl up at the end of the grass field and gave her full power. The machine began moving fast across the grass gaining momentum every moment, racing faster and faster. I looked off to my right and I recoiled in shock. I saw troop trucks and armored cars rolling up to the field with the Belkan flag gracing their sides. I scowled. The trucks stopped quickly and let the soldiers out who started firing their guns my way.

"You want a war?! I'll give you a damn war!" I screamed.

I pulled hard back on the stick and soared high into the skies, pulling into a vertical climb. Next, I punched hard to the right, and lined up the gun-sight with the trucks and troops from about 1500 meters out.

"I hope there's still some ammo in this thing," I mumbled. All there was to it was a trigger, reverse on the stick compared to a modern one, but I wasn't worried about the details of a trigger at that moment. Just point it at them and shoot!

"Please,please,please!" I pleaded with the old girl as I depressed the trigger.

The whole plane began to shudder and shake as I felt the wing mounted 13mm machine guns and the nose mounted 20mm cannon fire away at the targets. The cannon shells riddled the trucks and set them ablaze. The armored cars were also out the game, with the cannon fire rupturing their fuel tanks on contact. They were no match for the high caliber guns on the Gustav.

I did a victory roll as I passed over the wreckage, and made course for the Ploesti mercenary base in rural Central Usea about 550 miles away. I going to be pushing the range on this thing to the limit.

-Several hours later-

Unfortunately, and to my annoyance, I had to take the flight really slow, due to battle damage. I was leaking fuel from the drop tanks.

It took a while, and it was close to dark when I hit the Usean coastline, approximately 50 miles out from the airfield at Blackrock. I got on the radio and hurried through the frequencies to try and get someone from Ploesti on the line.

"This is Cipher, from Ploesti, can anyone hear me on the line?"

Nothing on the line, change it.

"This is Volk 1, from Ploesti. Does anyone read?"

"Cipher? Is that you?"

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Thank god! This is Blackrock tower, you picking up clean?"

"Roger that! Good to hear a friendly voice on the line."

"Uh, Cipher we're only picking up a weird lone radar signature looks like some sort of prop plane. Is that you?"

"Yes, long story, don't have time, I'm leaking fuel and need a landing clearance ASAP."

"Alright we'll be waiting for you, I'll get the crews ready."

"Thanks tower."

The Gustav grumbled on through the skies for another 25 minutes over the Usean farmland, taking it as easy as I could for the old girl's sake. Out in the distance, the flickering lights of the airstrip slowly protruded from the northern skyline.

"Cipher to Blackrock tower, I have visual."

"Roger, clear to land runway 18, over."

I lined up the Gustav at about 2,000 feet, and lowered the flaps and gear. I slowed the bird down to about ten percent on the accelerator. She fell gracefully and we made contact with the tarmac after 30 seconds at about 150 mph. I sighed in relief at my success.

"Good work Cipher, she's a pretty doll you got there."

"Yeah, she treats me pretty good."

Just when I thought my troubles were over, the tires blew out and the gear completely collapsed. The Gustav skidded hard against the tarmac and rolled over 100 meters further down the runway. It skidded some more on the top-side after the roll. I balled up in fear, praying the canopy wouldn't collapse and kill me. After a few more tense moments, the airframe ground to a halt. I was scared to open my eyes.

Was I dead?

I heard a pounding coming from my left, and I peered through the slits in my eyelids to see a fireman checking to see if I was alright. I opened my eyes fully and gave him a thumbs up.

"We're going to flip this thing!" He shouted at me, "Hold on!"

A tow truck rushed over to the plane, and hooked on to the fuselage. The hook was slowly pulled and I felt the plane's weight being shifting over, and I heard the wings snap. I cringed at that sound. Then the tow truck halted as the plane finished the action on its own, clattering into the normal, upright position. They quickly got me out, and rushed me off to the infirmary. Nothing more than some bruises. I was kept overnight for observation, just in case they missed anything.

The old Gustav though was finished. Totaled. Kaput. Dead.

The ground crews collected the wreckage and stored it off in one of the spare hangars, its resting place to this very day. I remember that as soon as I got out of the infirmary, I went to go see it and I wept at the sight. The glorious bird, wings clipped, had earned its final rest. She deserved it. 52 years later her work was finally done.

Hung in my doorstep and buried in the backyard. She was loyal to the end. She had fulfilled her master's last wish. To save me and make sure I made it home.

* * *

-May 23, 1995 2245hrs Dom of Saint Paul, Gerensburg-

I had my head bowed in prayer as I came out of the memory. I looked again to the altar honoring the fallen Saint. I stood up and walked to it, my mind completing my motions for me. I collapsed on my knees as I stared up into the magnificent ceiling, painted and adorned lavishly by its creators.

"You know God, I've never been the most devout Lutheran, to be honest," I said aloud, "But I've faced so many trials to come before you today. I know my greatest challenges are just ahead of me, and my faith will be tested. I just wanted to say, I know what I've done, I know who I am, and I present myself before you, asking for your blessing and forgiveness. I have accepted my failures."

Vixen walked in front of me and looked at me with a gentle smile.

"You done blaming yourself?"

"I'm done. The past is the past. The future is the future. I belong in the present, with you."

"Good. Let's get going."

I stood up and took her hand in mine, and beckoned for Moritz to follow. As we walked out the door, I looked back once more, and I saw a single candle on the altar go out.

"Thanks", I thought to myself as we started our walk back to the apartment.

* * *

-May 24, 1995 0545-

I was up the next morning dark and early, ready to put in the morning paces. Moritz needed to take his morning crap, as expected, so I hurried him out as soon as I got my uniform on, running into the overcast and dark beginning of the day. I let him out into alley, and he hurried off into a small grassy area behind one of the other apartments and squatted. I smirked at the silly hund. I loved him more and more every day. As soon as Moritz finished his shit, I jogged back inside out of the gloomy weather. I took a seat at the bar in the kitchen and took out my flight journal to count up the kills. After cross-checking my claims with a quick call to fighter command, I was confirmed at 51 kills. Only nine kills away from my father's record. I sighed as I looked at my reports I had filed from the beginning of my career, seeing a joy in those words and writing that I needed back desperately. Vixen stumbled out of her bedroom with a plain white t-shirt on, and some athletic shorts. She was surprised I was up so early.

"The dog?"

"Yup."

"You want some coffee?"

"Sure, would love some."

She brewed it in a few minutes, and in the meantime I helped her finish her flight reports. She never liked doing them, so I always helped her fill in the necessary jargon to make sure it gets approved. With another call to fighter command, she learned that she was a confirmed double ace, much to her delight.

"I told you I wasn't bad at dogfighting!"

"I never said you weren't! When did I say that?"

"You didn't, I'm just teasing you."

She handed me a mug of my tonic, and I sipped away at it.

"Does this mean I get to have an interceptor now?" she asked giving me a really sad, puppy-eyed face.

"What? Why would you want an interceptor?"

"Oh I don't want just any interceptor, I want the Raptor."

I almost spit out my coffee in shock.

"Are you serious? You want to fly that piece of junk? The deathtrap that almost killed Pixy?"

"Well, I want something I can fly on level with you. I'm not letting you out my sight anymore. That almost got you killed more than once!"

I shook my head at her.

"Tell you what, I'll let you have my Widow. I'll get Lothar to fix up the Eagle for me to fly."

"Really, You mean it? No bullshit, straight up, right?"

"I mean it, no bullshit."

"Thank you!" she hollered as she squeezed me in a hug around my neck, suffocating me to an extent.

"Stop...choking...me!" I fought to get out of my mouth.

"Oh. Sorry about that," she replied as I regained my breath.

"Just please don't do that again," I pleaded, "Buzzard's antics are enough."

"You got that right."

Breakfast was served about half an hour later, some simple scrambled eggs and toast. I was thankful I didn't have to hurry my eating to satisfy the demon of a base commander at Valais, that damned Perrault. My face drained at the thought of that. A court-martial waiting for me as soon as I returned. Wonderful. But, I didn't trouble myself any further with it. It was just too damn depressing.

I figured I might as well do something to change that. Gliding was out of the question with the weather, so I figured we could do the next best thing.

"There a shooting range around here?" I inquired.

"Yeah, about 20 minutes away. Why'd you ask?"

"I want to sight in my guns, since we have nothing better to do."

"Fine by me. I'll go get ready," she said with a shrug and walked off.

I went back to my room, fetched the PPK and the Mauser, and headed back outside to my car. I unlocked the 2002 with my key and put it the gear in the backseat. I sat down in the driver seat and opened the passenger door for Moritz who bounded inside. I passed the time with some cassettes playing some alternative rock tracks. It reminded me of being back in high school. Better times, even with the bullying. Ten minutes later Vixen was in her uniform and outside. Her blonde hair, which had grown out even more, was tied back into a long ponytail. She was rebelling in her own way against Perrault with the hair regs. Never bothered me. In fact, I thought she looked better with her hair long. Rather quickly, Vixen caught me staring, while I made that observation.

"What? I look stupid or something?"she spat.

"Urh... no. You just...look a lot better with your hair long. That's all."

"Aww," She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, "Sweet of you to say that."

"You're welcome. Ready to go?"

"Ready."

I knocked the stick into first and punched it, heading out of the town, off into the back-roads of rural Ustio. Since there were never any cops here, I always was a bit 'generous' with my speed. By 'generous' I mean 200+ kph. I stared off into the distance, focusing on no one particular thing as the drive went on. I liked to drive a lot, and if I hadn't become a pilot, I probably would've raced cars. Speed was intoxicating. Whenever you went fast, you always wanted more. Faster around that corner, little further before hitting the brakes, pushing just a little harder to catch the lead car, that kind of thing.

We reached the range off in a field next to a small house, facing some of the bigger hills in the countryside. The parking was just a gravel lot, and since it was packed, I had to park in the rear of it.

"Why do you think it's this busy?" Vixen inquired as she opened the passenger door, letting Moritz out.

"A competition most likely," I answered as I grabbed my rifle, and put my pistol into my holster under my dress jacket.

I slinged the rifle over my right shoulder, and grasped the Rittmeister cane in my left hand. I closed the car door and locked it up. We walked through the lot up to the house and went inside. There was a lot of people crammed into the tiny building, and we had to shove our way through to get to the front desk. A bald older guy, who looked to be in his 60's, with a mustache, was running the desk. Once he saw that Vixen and I were in uniform, he made it much easier for us to get to the desk, barking at the other people to move.

"Sorry, Herr Major, I didn't see you come in, or I would've asked the people in here to be nice for once and act polite," he chuckled, then he leaned in and added with a whisper, "No one respects the Teresa medal anymore, the damn kids don't even know what it is."

I held in my laughs. He reminded me of my dad.

"You two in the Air Force?"

"It's that easy to tell, eh?" I replied.

"Ja, the Rittmeister stick gave it away, and the hund. I'm Hanno Sternberng. Just call me Hanno," the frail old man warmly phrased as I shook his hand.

"Well met, Hanno. I'm Erich Völler, and this is Oberleutnant Jacki Ickx."

"Hallo, Frau Ickx," the old man gracefully spoke, his High Belkan accent piercing the air. "I'm afraid Herr Völler, there are no lanes open today for public use, due to the high attendance of the competition. Everyone's been pent up for a while, due to the occupation by the Belkans, and this is the first rifle shoot being held in Ustio since the liberation, so the turnout is huge. We have people out here from all over the country coming for the shoot. However, if you wish to enter, we do have a few spots reserved for active duty military members."

I looked over my right shoulder and smirked at Vixen. She grinned back, knowing exactly what I was going to do.

"I'm in Hanno, just me."

"You're not shooting, Frau Ickx?" Hanno asked.

"Nein, I've never been too good with a rifle, I'm afraid."

"It's true, I don't recommend it, Hanno. It's..." I trailed off as I faked shielding my eyes from something in total horror.

He laughed at that, long and hard. A good shooter's joke goes a long way for these old guns.

"Alright, Herr Major, We'll get you set. The competition is split into teams based on age and other factors, but you," he said as he looked over his papers, "are on the active duty team. There's only other man here who's shooting on that team."

"Who's that?"

"A 19 year old special forces sniper, named Henrik Magnusson. He's a crack shot. You good with him?"

"Hell yeah, I'm good with him! I'll need all the help I can get."

"Alright you will be on lane 15. I just need your 50 marks for the deposit, and I need to check your ammo."

I stuck my hand in my breast pocket and pulled out my wallet. I forked over my 50 marks and ammo at the same time. He did a quick grain and weight check on the rounds, and I was good to go.

"Will it be easy to spot Henrik?" I asked old Hanno.

"Yes, you'll spot him immediately, Herr Major. Herr Magnusson will fill you in on the competition details, good luck."

We shoved our way back out of the house.

"Verdamnt! That was crowded, all right!" I quipped as we headed further into the field to the rifle lanes.

"I'm glad we're shooting out in the fresh air," Vixen commented, "That was stuffy in there."

Moritz had made it out ok, even though his fur suggested that he had just been through a meat grinder, sticking out every which way. But, the black Wielvakian hound was as happy as ever, bounding around and hopping about on his hind legs in front of me. After reaching the lanes, we found lane 15, and it was very easy to find just as old Hanno had said, since that was where the majority of the spectators were sitting. And standing behind the rifle bench, smoking a cigarette, was a 5'7", redheaded, babyfaced, lanky Henrik Magnusson. And before I could even introduce myself, he bee-lined it for Moritz.

"Ah! I'd never think I would see one of these here!" Henrik gasped, petting Moritz all over for a good while. Henrik hadn't even noticed us at all yet. After a little bit, he then turned and saw us standing there in silence. His demeanor changed instantly into shame, "Oh. Sorry," he spoke as he snapped to a salute.

"Don't be. I'm Erich Völler, the other active duty shooter," I replied, the sniper still at attention in his salute. I sighed, "And forget the saluting, I get tired of that shit quick."

"Alright, nice to meet you Erich, I'm Henrik Magnusson," he firmly declared as he shook my hand with a brighter look on his face, "And this is?" he inquired, pointing to Vixen.

"This is my wingman, Oberleutnant Vicki Ickx."

"Nice to meet you," he calmly asserted, shaking her hand as well.

"Apparently you're quite the shot, Henrik. Even Hanno had only good things to say about you," I stated as I laid my equipment down on rifle bench.

"As good as I need to be for the Edelweiß."

The Edelweiß? Only the most elite ground troops, in the world? But there were two, the Belkan and Ustian Edelweiß. Better make sure he's on our side, I thought to myself.

"Wait you're Ustian Mountain Corps? The original one?"

"Correct, the Belkans share the Edelweiß name with our mountain division. Even though we had it first."

"I remember something about an Edelweiß trooper has to be able to shoot something like a 90 score from 250 meters. Which to me is just insane!" Vicki said to the young mountain sniper. He just grinned in response.

"Well, when you've done it as long as I have, you can do that easily. I've had a gun in my hand since I was five. You just have a feel for it, I assume much like the Belkans do with planes. Wielvakians just shoot guns instead."

"How'd you tell we were Belkan?" I asked.

"The hair, the way you talk, none of these things bad, mind you, it sets you all apart. You speak in High Belkan as well, no Ustian I've ever met speaks that way."

"Yeah, makes sense," I responded.

"What air unit are you in Herr Major?"

"6th Air Force, 66th Air Force Unit."

"Wait. No. No way! You're...!"

"Shut it!" I snapped, moving in and quickly putting my hand over his mouth, "I don't want to start even more pandemonium."

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered, "It's just...wow! You're Der Rote Teufel. I'd never think I'd meet him here!"

After he got his excitement out of the way, I sent the conversation straight back to business.

"Now, can you walk me through what the competition is like?"

"Yeah, for you, of course! I suggest taking notes though, you're going to need them."

* * *

**AN/: Well, Guten Tag everyone! I'm finally back! I'm really sorry I haven't been able to update at all these past couple of weeks. A combination of sickness, writer's block, and a bad class at school has made things hard for me to come back. However, I'm here, and I promise I'm not leaving for good anytime soon! Anyways I wanted to use this** **to put something out there real quick. I want to do a Q&amp;A with you guys, so you all can learn some things about me, and connect with me a little more! All you have to do is to send your questions through a PM to me for you members out there. If you're not a member, get an account! It's something I haven't regretted doing one bit. The questions can be anything(besides personal information like where I live, age, real name, stuff like that. I will not answer these even if you do ask, so don't try it) about my likes, dislikes, opinions on anything Ace Combat, just ask something! But, make sure it's something I haven't answered already in my profile. When I have enough, the questions along with the answers, will be in my profile for your perusal. Anyways, hope everyone has a wonderful Easter, and I'll see you again soon.**

**Karaya 1**

**Glossary:**

**Weiß beer- A sweet wheat beer, favored in Bavaria, due to the favorable conditions for wheat growing in Southern Germany. In Prussia hops beer is favored, making the more bitter, higher alcohol content dark braus.**

**Badger Hole: Reference to Lockheed's Skunk Works R&amp;D department in California that built the SR-71, U-2, F-117, and other hugely successful planes and projects. A jack-of-all-trades sort of group. **

**Gerensburg(Forgot to do this one last chapter :p)- Reference to Regensburg in southern Germany. Really cool city, recommend it highly, if you're ever near it.**

**Dom of St Paul and Directus Dom- The Dom(or cathedral in English) of St. Paul is a reference to the Dom of St. Pauli in Köln, or Cologne, Germany. The Directus Dom is also a reference to the Köln Dom in size, since the Regensburg Dom is pretty similar to the Dom in Köln, but it's not quite as large. **

**Herr Major: This is just so you know how it's pronounced. Herr is said like "Hair", and Major is actually pronounced like, "My-your"(that's a weird way of putting it). German can be kind of funky at times. Those silly Germans!**

**Gustav- nickname for the Me-109(By the way, the cockpit in a Me-109 is kind of confusing. The reverse trigger is especially weird)**

**Oberleutnant- First Lieutenant in German**

**Leutnant- Equivalent of Second Lieutenant in German**

**Edelweiß- The nickname of the Austrian and German mountain corps. They share the name, but the Austrians did have it first.**

**90 from 250 meters- This is shooting at least in the nine ring on a target with every shot of a ten shot group from about 750 feet away. That's literally incomprehensible to me. It's not an official requirement of the real Edelweiß, mind you.**


	14. Chapter 14: Shredding Paper

_"This is our purpose: to make as meaningful as possible this life that has been bestowed upon us...to live in such a way that we may be proud of ourselves, to act in such a way that some part of us lives on." _

_Oswald Spengler, author of The Decline of the West. RIP to a lost teammate. This chapter is dedicated to his memory._

* * *

Ch. 14 Shredding Paper

"You think you got it?" Henrik asked with a look on his face that he was expecting a 'no'.

"Yeah, fifty shots at 200 yards. The first ten are slow fire, standing. Then next ten are kneeling, with rapid fire. The ten after that are prone with rapid fire. The final twenty are also prone with slow fire."

"Good," the Wielvakian youngster grinned, "You just might do alright Voller. And you better take that scope off, that shit's banned."

"Oh," I grumbled as I unscrewed the mounts from the Mauser's rail and disassembled the whole unit within ten seconds. Henrik reached under the rifle bench and pulled out his baby, a MK-14EBR, chambered in 7.62x51mm. It was colored in alpine white, with the rails in a stainless steel tone. He quickly pulled out a magazine and loaded it into the rifle, and quickly pulled back the charging handle. Henrik then dropped into the proper prone stance by rolling into it from the right side, giving himself perfect weight distribution and balance. Henrik appeared satisfied with his little test, and hopped back to his feet.

"Now, I need to check your mount."

"What?" I asked, completely perplexed.

"Look, if we're actually going to contend for an HOA today, you need that gun to be a perfect fit for you. So, come on, mount up your gun and point it at me, bolt back of course."

I picked up the K98 from the table and cocked the bolt back into the open position. I slowly mounted the rifle into my shoulder cavity, and aimed it right at his right eye.

"Ok," he said as he grabbed the end of the barrel and peered down both sides, "It looks like you're a little low."

"Low?"

"Your eyes are lower than the sight, so it's going to give you an inconsistent sight picture. Lucky for you, I have something to fix that."Henrik dragged out a black duffel bag from under the rifle bench and rummaged through it for a few minutes. The Wielvakian pulled out a roll of olive drab cloth and some duct tape. "Hand it over, Erich."  
I quickly surrendered my weapon to the teenager as he began his work. Henrik started by wrapping the olive cloth around the stock where I had rested my cheek, giving about another inch or two in rise. He then secured it with tape in the middle of the cloth, wrapping it super tight. "Alright, try that."

I mounted up the gun again and noticed how the sight picture was even with the iron sights on the gun. The improvement was next to impossible not to notice.

"Shit, that does make a difference!" I quipped.

"Yeah, it's what we have to do. The mount makes or breaks a shooter, especially in rifle, even in the shotgun stuff too. An inch on there can cost you several feet on a target out there," he replied seriously, securing the cloth with a little tape on the edges of the cloth. "And you'll need these," he continued reaching back into the duffel bag and pulling out four little metal strips, "These are 8mm stripper clips, since you'll be shooting in ten or twenty, and with the rapid sections, you'll have to reload fast too. This should speed you up significantly."

"Where'd you get these?" I asked.

"Let's just say when my squad leader doesn't order me to use the EBR, I like to be a little old-fashioned."

"Well, where's yours?"

"Oh, the gunsmith for the Edelweiss is doing some maintenance on the wooden stock, since I fell on a patrol about a week ago and cracked it. It's pretty much just like your K98, the long rifle."

"Yeah, I always had a dislike for the K version, it just doesn't have the same feel," I replied as I held the rifle against my hip, pointing skywards.

A loud buzzer went off, and several gun club staff ran onto the field carrying the targets and the mounts for them, all the way out to the 200 yard mark. Henrik looked down at his watch, and put his black custom mold earplugs in. He looked over at me and pointed to his watch, holding up 4 fingers in my direction. 4 minutes to go-time. Vixen walked over and gave me my polarized sunglasses and some cheap earplugs. I took care in rolling the earplugs carefully so they fit well and tight. I put on my sunglasses, and did a check down range, making an imaginary mount at the target area. Perfect.

The staff finished stapling the targets to the mounts and rushed back to the shooting blocks. Henrik beckoned me over and said to me, "I'm first up, just follow my lead."

I nodded in reply and took my position over at the rifle bench as Henrik readied himself in his standing position. The referees did a check on all the shooters to make sure everyone was ready to begin. Henrik this whole time was ice-cool, but as the call for the start came, I noticed the right corner of his mouth coming up in a smirk.

This kid is going places.

The buzzer went off again, and a cacophony of shots went off all over the place. Henrik hadn't even fired. He was very focused on his breathing, slowly watching his breaths, slowing his heart beat to a crawl.

BANG. The first shot was out. And now, Henrik was in his rhythm.

BANG. The second shot was out.

BANG. BANG. BANG. It was like he was shooting with a metronome, a shot down range on every second.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. And with those shots perfectly executed, he was finished. Henrik snapped out of his stance and looked over at me with a smile.

"That's how you do it, Erich. Now, let's see how I did," he said as he pulled out his binoculars from his bag. Henrik quickly focused them down-range and I could see he was pleased. "Perfect score! Haven't done one in the standing for a while."

"Jesus!" I yelled yanking the binoculars from him and looked down the range. Sure enough ten little holes were in the X region of the target, the ten point ring. They were all in a neat pattern right around the center of the X. "I can see why you have a reputation, Henrik. Vixen, come look at this!"

She was just as shocked when she saw the target, "Henrik, I'm surprised you haven't won the damn Olympics yet!"

He immediately waved that train of thought away, "Yeah, and shoot a puny .22? Nah, I don't think so." Turning to me, he spoke again. "You're up, Erich."

I grabbed my rifle and took my place in the center of the shooting block. The targets were taken in, and new fresh ones were out there, ripe for the picking.

The buzzer went off, and I let out my first breath.

Just like hunting, Erich. Just take your time, and don't think too much.

I adjusted my aim a little high, and a little right to compensate for the wind. My finger was now slowly approaching the trigger. Pull!

* * *

-A few hours later...-

BANG.

And that was that. The last shots were up, and the shoot was over. Henrik of course, had won HOA individual with a score of 499 out of 500. He had only missed the ten ring once out of 50 fifty shots.

On the other hand, there was me. I had managed a 450 out of 500, which wasn't too bad, but not good enough to tangle with the the top guns like Henrik, or win the HOA for our team. Vixen was the first to congratulate me, even though I wasn't entirely happy with my performance. She gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear,

"See, that's why you fly a fighter, right?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that, "Yeah, probably. It's easier for me to hit a moving target!"

Henrik had collected his trophy and asked us to join him for the post-shoot dinner that everyone who shoot was invited to. They were serving some barbecued pork and grilled vegetables, so I didn't complain. As we sat down at a table outside and behind the clubhouse, my mind raced back to my job I had to go back to soon. I then realized that I was probably going to have a firing squad waiting for me as soon I as returned.

"Here you go," Henrik beamed as he handed me and Vixen a bottle of beer a piece, sitting down opposite of us, "I hope that's all right."

I took a sip and to my joy, it was my favorite, a Belkan Shiner. "You guessed so right, Henrik. Thanks a ton. And thanks for letting me shoot with you, even if I didn't help you out too much."

"Pfft. Forget it. It was a pleasure to shoot with you. Maybe after all this crap blows over, we can shoot sometime?" the young mountain trooper said flicking his messy red hair out of the way.

I nodded and called for Moritz. He hopped up in my lap and curled up, passing out within a minute. The whole place became almost dead silent, with only the sound of the winds blowing down from the mountains around us. It was then I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could use Henrik to my advantage. My trump card over Perrault, my own personal guard on base who answers only to me. But, I seriously doubted that he would do something like that.

"Henrik, I don't mean to ask so much of you already, but I need your help," I sighed as I continued to pet the sleeping Moritz on his head.

"What'cha need? I'd be glad to help."

"Well, it's no small task, and it's totally fine if you don't want to do it..."

"Ach! Come on!" he cut me off quickly, "Quit droning on! What do you need me to do, Erich?"

"I've gotten out of favor with our new base commander, a Colonel Henry Perrault. He threatened me quite seriously when I left last, and I have a hunch he's going to have the firing squad or something else equally horrid ready for me when I come back. I'm not going out without a fight, so that's where you come in."

"A little armed insurrection? I'm sure if I pass word up the chain I could probably get this guy reported, and a whole platoon of guys to help you Erich."

"I was afraid to do so, since he's really under Osean, not Ustian, jurisdiction."

"Ah, I see. One of the damn Osi's getting full of ordering us real continentals around, eh? This isn't going to float well with the Ustian High Command, especially Minister Graf. I know him personally, and I've only heard good things about you and your compatriots from him. I doubt he's going to let this go on for long." Henrik fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a small business card, quickly handing it to me, "I'm going to call and report him to my commander tonight. See if I can't get clearance to bring a platoon of the Edelweiß down to your base and get this sorted. This is my phone number."

Vixen and I were both shocked at this development. I never knew he would take such a big and hard stance on this kind of thing.

"Thanks Henrik, I never thought anyone would help out like this!" I said in pure astonishment.

"Of course, I don't let any man get pushed down like that. Give me a call tomorrow morning, and we'll put together a plan."

* * *

-May 27, 1995 0430 Gerensburg Airfield-

Rather quickly, Henrik had convinced both his commander and Minister Graf that the situation needed an immediate resolution due to the threats issued by Perrault. I had signed and put forward a testimony of his threats... and a plethora of poor command decisions. The platoon of Edelweiß was cleared within the day and met us out at the Gerensburg airport to help formulate the plan Henrik and I were coming up with.

First, the F-16F Vixen and I had come in with would land back at the base as if nothing had happened. However, Henrik would actually be the one in the cockpit instead of myself. If asked, Vixen would say the reason for the lack of radio response from me was because I was asleep. After the plane landed, the platoon of about forty other Edelweiß troops would descend from the mountains and begin their attack on the base. They would capture and subdue Perrault ASAP, and then use him as leverage for the rest to stand down. Where would I be? I would be in the other fighter that was joining the Falcon in the air.

"You're flying that?!" Vixen screamed at me, "Have you lost your mind?!"

"Trust me Vixen, I'll be fine! I've put in 200 hours on this bird, I know my way around it. Just keep Henrik safe, ok?"

"Ugh... fine. Just make sure that thing works before you take off, okay?"

"Alright, alright, I will." I glanced over to my hund. "Come here Moritz!"

Bark!

The morning twilight was a relieving sight for my sore eyes, and it gave the bird I was going to fly a particularly beautiful glow. It was a special one, the Me 262. I had saved it a few months before the start of the Belkan War, and not a moment too soon, it seemed, as Belkan forces had again captured the ruins of town, just hours after I had left. I spent the precious days before the war training to fly this plane and used up God knows how much money rebuilding the engines. The jets were tricky buggers and were highly susceptible to flame-outs if the throttle was touched at all. I hopped in the cockpit and Moritz bounded into my lap just as the canopy was being pulled down and secured by the crews. I pulled on a plain, modern, matte grey flight helmet and hooked up the oxygen system to the mask. I primed the fuel and oil pumps, and hit the ignition. The engines whined to life, and everything was reading good. "Vixen you listening?" I called over the comm as I fastened my restraints.

"Yeah, I just got in. Henrik's gonna ride in the second seat. I told him not to touch anything."

"Good," I called out, a smile crossing my face at thought of the woman being bossy with the shooter. "The Swallow's ready to roll and readings are good. Did they load the cannons?"

"Yeah Erich," Henrik finally checked in, "We found some 30mm to load them up with. You're probably going to be the only air support we have, so watch your fuel and ammo. I'd say you'll most likely have about 30 to 35 seconds of full fire time."

"Roger, I'll keep that in mind. We better get going Vixen. We don't want to keep the guys on the ground waiting."

"Right Cipher, moving out."

I pulled the Schwalbe up behind the Falcon, following it onto the taxiway. The old jet was dwarfed by the new F-16. I felt like the damn Falcon was going to run over me if it accidentally hit the brakes. We finally got to the runway, and as the Falcon hit the afterburner, the jet wash actually pushed me back a little bit.

"Tower this is Galm 1, requesting take-off, over."

"Roger Galm 1, good luck today. Hope it all works out for you guys."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

I throttled up to pretty much max power, and began the long process of the takeoff. After about half-way down the runway I had to puff the brakes to get the plane to start to pull up. Still, I needed about another quarter of the runway to get airborne. Once I was in the air, I made a slow turn to start heading south, the jets finally starting to get up to combat speed. I caught up with Vixen after a few minutes, and since I had to maintain speed without throttle changes, she had to keep with me on our short cruise at 25,000 feet.

Moritz was resting calmly. I hope he can take a little action. As I patted the dog on the head, he slowly closed his eyes in response.

"She's beautiful in the air, Cipher," Vixen said.

"I spent some serious time getting to her where she is now." I responded with nostalgia. "She almost killed me when I brought her back, flamed out the engines on landing. My gliding definitely saved my ass then," I said with a dark chuckle.

"Why'd you never tell anyone about this?" she asked.

"Figured it was better not to. Typically the response to telling people I had a plane like this is either, 'can I fly it', or, 'are you some sort of Rald radical'. Which I would answer 'no' to both. Guess it doesn't matter anymore."

"Galm 1, Galm 1, do you read? This is Eagle Eye, over."

Should I answer? Probably.

"This is Galm 1, go ahead Eagle Eye."

"Oh, thank god! I'm glad I got you first. The shit's hit the fan at Valais," the AWACS controller responded with a sigh of relief.

"What's happened?"

"Perrault went bloody insane! He has the whole place on lockdown, and from what Buzzard told me, they have lots of foreign mercenaries in there too."

"Are they all ok?"

"Yeah, they made them do some missions while you were gone, but they got through them fine."

"Good to hear, where are they know?"

"Probably confined to their quarters."

"Eagle Eye, we're going to change all that."

"How?"

"I have a platoon of Edelweiß mountain corps about to raid the base and capture Perrault under the direct orders of Defense Minister Graf."

"Wow! That's a big boot up his ass! I can't wait to see him get what's handed to him."

"And Eagle Eye, I'm sure you're picking up a weird radar contact near the F-16, right?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it..."

"That's what I'm really in. You're really going to be my eyes in the sky today, I'm flying an old Me-262, and I have no radar whatsoever. You're going to have to watch my back, alright?"

"How did you...?"

"Now is not the time. Can you watch my back?"

"You got it Cipher. I've got your back."

After another 15 minutes we were closing in on the mountains surrounding the base, and I quickly peeled off from Vixen once I heard the chatter being directed towards her.

"Galm 1, this is tower, do you read over?"

This is Galm 3, Galm 1 is currently dead asleep. I'm in control, over."

"Roger, you are ordered to land immediately runway 27, and await further instructions."

"I copy."

High in the morning sky, I was circling over the base, scoping out possible targets. The main problem was the AA hardpoints around the HQ. I was going to have to get them in my first runs. Next, I would probably have to hit the APC's that were roaming on the ground so I could clear a path for the mountain troops. Lastly, I would need to strafe near the planes, but not destroy them, so they didn't come in the air. Vixen landed without any problems and pulled off to the team hangar. The plane was quickly surrounded by several of the APC's and they escorted the Falcon over towards the HQ.

As soon as they stopped, I saw a staff car pull up to plane, and all guns were drawn on them. A person that looked like Perrault pointed for them to get out. Vixen did, but as to the plan, Henrik just sat there with the helmet on, and didn't move.

"Cipher, 10 seconds," I heard him whisper, "Get ready to get these bastards."

"I copy, moving in."

I put the Schwalbe into a dive, the engines whining louder and louder as I fell. I closed in more and more and finally, some explosions went off to my left. The Edelweiß had begun their attack.

That's my cue.

I mashed the trigger for the cannons, and the 30mm monsters thudded to life, blowing a few of the APC's away instantly, and putting the rest out of action. I swerved off from my attack run, and went after the AA guns. I was skirting over the runway at about 50 feet, heading towards the AA emplacements, letting out blasts of hot 30mm lead constantly. All that could be said of Moritz was that he was surprisingly tame, only raising his head to see what was going on outside. The gunfire and explosions meant nothing to him.

"Good effect Cipher! Vixen and I are hot on Perrault's trail. Keep the ground clear for me, okay?"

"Roger. Eagle Eye, you reading?"

"Copy! Picking up hostile tanks to South of the base!"

"I'll get them as soon as I get these guns."

To my good fortune, the crews weren't expecting an air raid, and I took out the cannons without any casualties. I pushed for the tiny bit of throttle power I had left, and turned to my left, back off to the South. When I faced that way, my stomach dropped. Abrams tanks.

"SHIT! LOTS OF ABRAMS!" I screamed as I headed for them, "Get the troops moving now!"

"Roger Cipher! Ground forces, haul ass! You've got enemy Abrams tanks coming for you, move it!"

I lined up my gun sight and immediately mashed the trigger. I saw the tracers rushing away from the plane and into the tanks. The 30mm shells were paying off, with about six of the tanks down and out. I still had about 10 tanks to destroy. I made a swooping turn around and came back low and fast. Another set of quick bursts knocked the rest of the tanks out.

"Tanks are down, Eagle Eye. God, I love this plane!"

"Good work, It looks like it's clear enough to land. I suggest you get down there and get to work."

"Roger, thanks for the help Double E."

"Good luck out there."

I started my approach from the valley to runway 9, rather unopposed, but I still got the occasional rifle round hitting the plane now and then. I cut the throttle back, praying hard for the engines to stay alive. As they slowly drained speed, the whine of the engines decreased, and there was no sputter or shaking. The engines had held together for once. I continued the approach, and at last landed on the tarmac. Once I got to an acceptable speed, I turned off the runway, and parked the 262 over by the team hangar. I popped the canopy, and rushed out as fast as I could, picking up Moritz and leaping off the airframe in the process. I pulled out my jet-black Walther PPK pistol from my holster, and began my search for Henrik and Vixen.

The whole damn place was covered in smoke making it near impossible for me to see even 10 feet in front of me. I sprinted in the direction of the HQ, or at least I thought I was, with Moritz in tow. After running for what felt like an eternity through that fog of war, I managed to stumble into two of the mountain troopers. They were decked out in full combat kits, bandoliers, packs, helmets, the whole thing. They looked and meant business.

"Are you Cipher?" one of them asked from behind a balaclava mask.

"Yeah, that's me," I responded as I hunched over to catch my breath.

"Major Magnusson has the Colonel cornered, sir," the other one continued also wearing a similar black mask, "But I'm afraid it's not all sunshine and rainbows."

"Why's that?"

"He's got two hostages so far as we know," the first one added his eyes dropping out of contact with mine.

"Do you know who they are?"

"No sir, that's why the Major needs you right away," the second one replied anxiously.

"Alright, let's go."

They led me through the rest of the smoke over into the HQ, and the whole place was riddled with bodies of the mercenaries. The walls were covered in bullet-holes and blast marks from grenades. This place was the bloody front line. We went off to the left hallway heading towards the commander's office. There were tons of the Edelweiß in the halls now, waiting outside the office. Henrik and Vixen were both waiting there, Henrik as stoic as ever, but Vixen looked to be on the verge of a total breakdown. I rushed up to her and gave her a hug. She then whispered something in my ear that I really didn't want to hear.

"He has them Erich! Buzzard and Zero, he has them!" she sobbed uncontrollably.

"WHAT?! The bastard!" I shouted.

I saw Henrik turn my way, his face turning more sour by the second, "He's already killed two of my men, and threatens to kill your's if you don't go in there."

"I'll go," I said as I tucked my Walther in the back of my pants under the cover of my jacket.

"No, I can't lose you Erich, goddamn it!" Vixen said as she grabbed my sleeve.

"I'm not letting that scumbag get away with this, Vixen. I'm going to get them out, and I will come back, I promise!" I said as I kissed her on the cheek, and put my head against her's with my eyes closed, for a few long seconds.

I turned back to the door, that gateway to hell, pushed it open, and walked in. As it quietly shut behind me, I walked through the reception area, equally ravaged by the fight. I knocked on the door to the office.

"It's Völler, don't shoot. I don't have a gun," I said mentally crossing my fingers.

"Enter," came the scumbags voice, making it seem like this whole thing was nothing more than me reporting in.

I walked in to the office. It was shockingly clean compared to the reception room. Perrault was, of course, sitting at his desk. He had obviously prepared for this moment. On their knees in front of his desk, under the barrels of mercenary assault rifles were Buzzard and Zero, both bloodied and beaten heavily. Buzzard managed to smirk a little.

"Good to see you, pal," he whispered. The mercenary then smacked him in the face with the butt of his gun.

"Who gave you the permission to speak, worm?" he spat.

"The fairy godmother, you slimy bitch."

Perrault then trained his eyes on me. I could see the rage, the hatred in his eyes, brewing hotter and more potent. It wasn't pleasant to have that staring at you, but I didn't budge. Not an inch. I wasn't going to lose this time.

"Now, Major, you see, we're in a bit of a delicate situation aren't we?" Perrault spoke as he looked behind him through the windows into the chaos, "You have something I want, and I have something you want. Well," he said with a sadistic smirk, looking at my two other wing mates. "Make that two somethings."

"What do you want, Colonel?"

"You. I want to turn you in to the Chief of Staff in Oured, and finally get my damn General's promotion that I have deserved for my duties. If you surrender yourself, I will let your friends go."

This is what the world has come to? Terrorism and subversion for rank? What the hell is this world coming to?

"Don't do it!" Zero yelled, "It's not worth it!"

His guard smacked him down into the floor with his rifle, and kept beating him.

"You speak again, and I shoot you!"

I was barely able to control myself. I looked over to the guard and saw a familiar red and white logo. My god! No. This can't... This can't be! He's Gründer!

"Perrault, I knew from the beginning you were never working for Osea. This is something else. You want me out to the prolong the war. You work for Gründer don't you? That's where these guys are from, isn't it?"

He chuckled at that.

"Very perceptive of you Major. That's correct, I work for Gründer, these mercenaries work for them too. They sent me here to get you out the war, dead or alive. You're dictating the war pace, and moving it to a conclusion rather... quickly. Gründer loses money if you do that. So, if you happened to be arrested or killed, the war would go on indefinitely. For every bullet, missile, plane, tank, and rifle made, Gründer is there, on both sides. You might think that it's only Belka, but it's Osea as well. We forced them into retaining our services when the war began, by threatening them with cutting off war supplies if they did."

Rainman, you son of a bitch, you were right!

"Now, Major, are you coming with me, or not? Your friends don't have much time."

"Don't listen to him, Erich! Keep fighting!" Buzzard shrieked. Blood was oozing out of his mouth, and even more came with the strikes from the guard. After several hits, the guard pulled his gun and cocked it.

"You have ten seconds before I kill him, Major," Perrault snarked.

No... I...can't. This...why? Why this? I just stood there. Silent. Staring at the ground.

"Five seconds, Major."

Then I did what I had to do. I pulled the Walther out from my pants and fired. I struck Perrault right in the center of his forehead with the shot. I quickly fired two more shot in quick succession. As the bullets struck the mercenaries though, both of their guns went off.

"Son of a bitch!" I screamed, "VIXEN! GET IN HERE! QUICK!"

I rushed over to Buzzard as I heard the steps of the rest of my allies coming in behind me. I was cradling Buzzard's head. He was still smiling, even though he had a hole in his chest that was spilling the life from him.

"Well," he softly said, "Guess the ride's over, Cipher. I'm going to Valhalla, just like Andrianov."

"No, don't you do that on me!" I said with tears flowing down from my eyes, "You're going to be fine!"

I quickly started to put pressure on his bullet wound which was right above his heart, gushing blood. He grabbed my arm and just shook his head.

"Just promise me, you'll finish this Erich, you'll end this madness. That's good enough."

"I promise, I promise, George," I said to him holding his hand.

"Heh, you calling me George again... Thanks for the wake-up call..."

He then relaxed, his eyes shifting away from mine. His last breath coming out long and slow. I could feel his muscles relaxing, and his hand fell away. George 'Buzzard' Kildaire was dead. I turned over to the direction of Zero, and Vixen had the same expression as mine. He was gone too.

I ran my hand over his eyes, closing them for a final time. I stood up and turned to the collected group of soldiers, of fighters.

"We got a lot of work to do, everyone. I want us up and running by tomorrow morning. I doubt this is going unnoticed. We need signed reports on the whole thing from everyone. They're going to want the full story, and we're going to give it to 'em."

* * *

**Glossary: **

**HOA: High-Overall, typically a combined score from every event in a shoot.**

**Me 262 'Schwalbe': You don't know what this? Geez. You'd probably want to know that it's the first ever jet fighter. Really good plane, except for the fact that the engines, guns, and acceleration were not that great. Really vulnerable on takeoff and landing. That's why I had Cipher work on it for a while to make it reliable. Schwalbe, or Swallow, was its nickname**


	15. Chapter 15: My El Dorado

_"During my whole life I have not found a happier hunting ground than in the course of the Somme Battle. In the morning, as soon as I had got up, the first Englishmen arrived, and the last did not disappear until long after sunset. Boelcke once said that this was the El Dorado of the flying men." _

_Manfred von Richthofen, Der Rote Piloten_

* * *

Chapter 15: My El Dorado

-May 28, 1995, Valais AFB, 0845 hrs.-

Of course, the past day had sucked, hard. Everyone was thrown into the huge bureaucratic nightmare that is the Osean military justice system. It takes forever to get anything done with them. However, rather out of character, they took the case the same day, and dismissed any possible charges being filed. Apparently, there had been a row in the Ustian government about the whole incident, and the Oseans didn't want one of their allies on their border turning on them. The President of Osea himself had actually come in to the fray, and met with Ustian officials to clear everything up. However, nothing was mentioned of Gründer's involvement. Everyone who was in the attack agreed to keep it confidential. I had my own plans for them. But, despite there being no charges, everyone involved still had to report to Oured on the 29th for an official debriefing, accompanying Minister Graf. I wasn't looking forward to it to say the least, and the thought of the publicity as well was killing me. I wasn't cut out for this kind of junk.

And as a result of that whole goddamn mess, I double-jumped to Oberst, or Colonel, and was given command of Valais. I was in total shock about the appointment. I had absolutely no experience running a base at all. I didn't even know where to even get started. So, I requested that General Chennault be re-instated in base command. Minister Graf got the Oseans to agree, and he was sent back from his desk job. We threw a big party for the COC on the evening of the 27th for him, and everyone was relatively happy. But, then the commands came rushing in overnight. The shit-storm was finally here. We were briefed early on the morning of the 28th that the Osean Air Force was launching an offensive into the Round Table, Area B7R, the hell-hole I had barely survived on my first trip. Galm Team would be sent in as reinforcements to ensure Operation Battle Axe's success. But there was something we all had to do first.

Everyone gathered at the end of the runway again, the same place we stood before when Tiger had gone down, for what seemed to be eons ago. The collected pilots and crews formed a semi-circle around the sky-bridge as I called it. I took my position in front of them with my Rittmeister stick in hand, in full uniform, next to the four coffins, each draped with their respective flags. Vixen was right next to me, standing at attention. I could see the tears starting to form in her eyes, but since this was the 'official' ceremony, I didn't try to do hug her or anything to complicate things even further. The selected honor-guard of 32 soldiers came from the Mountain Corps, in their full dress blacks. They approached and stood at ease at the sides of the coffins. Henrik was in among them.

I walked to the front of the scene and stared out into the crowd. I couldn't bear to do this, but I had to.

"When I started flying three years ago," I began, "I would have never imagined that this day would be upon us. Where we stand as brothers, as friends, as a nation, and as a people, is just...incredible. Without these four men, who now rest behind me, I never would have made it to this day. They gave me the confidence, the strength, and the courage to pursue my goal, to be the best pilot, and the best man I could possibly be. There's something special about being someone's wingman that does that to you. You enter a very exclusive relationship, one that is more than just someone's friend, even more than a brother arguably."

For the first time in those several days, Pixy appeared out of the crowds and worked his way to the front. He stopped at my last words and just stared at me. My brow furrowed slightly at him as I continued, "Although I began this war as a mercenary, as you all know, I have changed a lot from that fateful day in April. I have learned to value the time I spend with everyone and enjoy every day as if it was my last."

I walked over to Zero's coffin, draped in Ustio's colors for his unknown origin, and said, "For even if your words were few and far between, and your past uncertain, you earned your place among the best. See you later, friend."

Next I stood next to Rainman's coffin, covered in the blue and white flag of his homeland, Emmeria. A single star sat in the center of the flag, almost a perfect representation of the soul of the man below it. "Although originally I thought you were a pain in the ass," a chuckle came from all around and I chuckled a little too, "Your insights before you perished were some of the most important words I've ever heard. You spoke the truth that was real, even if it wasn't what we wanted to hear. Thanks again, I owe you a beer when I get there."

Now I stopped at Lobo's coffin, oddly covered in similar colors to Rainman's except for the added gold trim and crest, characteristic of Sapin. "Lobo, I remember the joy of sharing the skies with you, and I regret I didn't get to share it with you as long as I wanted to. You died to try and stop more bloodshed, and that's something I'll always remember."

And finally, I was standing over my pal, my friend, my brother in the sky, Buzzard. The blue with the red cross, the land that was his, the Federation of Central Usea. "I don't think there's any words that can accurately describe how much this guy meant to me. Always a smile on his face, always another jib ready to shoot at me, always another way to hide the booze," I couldn't help but laugh a little at that, "But you were always there, ready to fight to the end, and you did. You stood up when I felt like falling, you kept me going, when I just..." I started crying but I recomposed myself so I could finish, wiping the tears from my eyes, "It's just a shame it had to be like this, you deserved a lot better. But, you took it like a true hero. I'm going to fulfill your promise, Buzzard, I'm going to end this, once and for all."

I rested my right hand on his coffin and looked over to the valley. I could almost see them hovering there, smiling back at me. Their war was over at last.

I let go for the last time, muttering, "See you in Valhalla, brother."

I walked back to my original position in front of the scene, and snapped to attention.

"Guard, positions!" I shouted.

The honor guard took their places at the ready at the coffins.

"Guard, receive and proceed!"

They picked up the coffins, eight at each of them, and carried them at shoulder height to the small graveyard over near the hospital. They were buried shortly after. One of the Edelweiß was stationed there as a guard, and one of these soldiers would always be on station to protect the graves. It was a touching move by those guys, and they have my eternal respect because of that.

I then made my way back over to the team's hangar, and it felt eerily empty compared to before. Two more planes pulled out. I heard the dull impacts of feet into concrete and turned to face the sound. It was Pixy.

"Where the hell were you?!" I screamed at him as I got right up in his face.

"What do you mean?" he spat back.

"What the hell do you think I mean! All of sudden you just show the up, with no bloody explanation!" I said as I threw my hands up in annoyance. The normally level-headed pilot looked seriously disturbed by my outburst. I came back to him and poked my right pointer finger straight into his chest, "If this has anything to do with your friends, buddy, I am going to kill you, remember? If I find out you've been screwing with me this whole war, I am never going to forgive you Pixy. We clear on that?"

"I got you, I got you," he quickly replied.

"Good. Now let's saddle up."

Lothar helped me up into my newly refurbished Eagle, and I felt right at home in the old girl. She now had upgraded engines, up-to-spec of the Widow, along with a 30mm Mk 108 cannon I 'acquired' from the 262. I figured it would help me break through the armored aces that, most likely, would end up against me in the Round Table. I also added the gold oak leaves design to my plane, with a 50 adorning the body. I was glad she was ready to go again. I saw Vixen walk by the Eagle decked in her flight gear, and she simply held up her hand in greeting as she walked by. I simply nodded in recognition. She hadn't done a whole lot to change the Widow, the only major change was the removal of the white designs on the wingtips that were like my Eagle's. She added a little white dove design below the cockpit, and changed the gold oak leaves to her 20 kills instead of my 40 I still had left on there. Otherwise, it was the same old bird.

"I'm good to go Lothar, are we green?" I yelled at the mechanic as jets of the fighters behind me roared into action.

After giving a quick last-second check on everything, he gave me the thumbs up. I hit the ignition and the starters and the two turbofans snarled on behind me. I fastened on my oxygen mask, and gave the wave-off. The crews removed the chocks and I was rolling.

"Check one, how we looking back there Vixen?" I called on the radio, following protocol.

"Straight and in line Cipher, Crow's falling in behind us."

"Roger. You got 'em moving Jericho?"

"That's a roger, Cipher. The lads and I are ready to get some vengeance for Buzzard," The Erusean crowed.

"Good. Let's get in the air," I said as I put the Eagle in the ready position at the end of the runway and put the flaps down into full-drag, "Tower, this is Galm 1 requesting immediate takeoff, over."

"Roger, takeoff clearance granted for all assault craft, over. Good luck to you all," The controller calmly said back.

"I copy tower, proceeding."

The Eagle rolled smoothly down the runway, and at takeoff speed I jerked the grey Eagle off to the right and made a low high-speed pass back over the base. Everyone else followed suit. We made our double three-plane formations at about 35,000 feet, and made our heading to the north, and began our trek to the battle that would make us immortal in the annals of military history.

-Several hours later, high over Area B7R-

We were still cruising at high altitude when we entered the combat zone. The Osean radio chatter illustrated to me the gravity of the situation.

"We've already lost 40% of our forces! Regroup to the south!"

"I can't shake him! He's on my six, Echo 3, can you clear it?!"

"Somebody help me get this guy off..."

The last transmission was cut off in a huge amount of static. Another kill for the Belkans.

"Galm and Crow teams," Eagle Eye called in, "Your objective is to clear the Belkan forces out of the area and assist Osean forces by any means necessary."

"Alright everyone, here's the plan," I began as I surveyed the radar, "Looks like the majority of the targets are concentrated in the center of the zone to the east of the mountain ridge. Crow, you'll dive in from the east, and we'll hit from the west. This should squeeze the Belkans out and we can start driving them back to the north."

"Roger Cipher, we're moving," Jericho rattled off as the Crow squadron broke off to our right.

I took a glance off to my right, surveying the battlefield. It was a mess of contrails, tracer rounds, and burning jet fuel. It almost looked like those old photographs from the history books of the Osean War. It seemed so familiar, yet so distant too, like I was in another world up in the heavens.

"You alright Cipher?" Vixen asked over the radio.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just ready for this to be over."

"Aren't we all?" she replied.

"We all should be," I finished with a hint of hostility.

We were finally in position high above the fight at approximately 27,000 feet. Crow entered their position a minute later.

"Jericho here, we're ready," Crow 1 called out.

"Copy that," I responded flipping the master arm switch on. The green lights on the weapon systems flicked on, and I readied my hand on the stick. "Everyone ready?"

I got a thumbs-up from Vixen, and a nod from Pixy as I looked to them.

"Alright, let's give them hell!" I yelled.

"Time to dive into the fireworks!" Pixy exclaimed as he entered his dive.

I pulled back a little on the stick and then rolled the Eagle onto its belly. I then pulled as hard as I could on the stick, pushing the nose straight at the ground. I grunted hard at the G's and lit up a couple of targets with the AMRAAMs. I throttled up to about 85%, and closed into about 3000 feet above the fur-ball. I had a lock on four Su-27's, so I gave the fire button a hard squeeze.

"Fox 3! Fox 3! Fox 3! Fox 3!" I quickly shouted as I turned off from my attack run to the right.

"Four targets down for Cipher!" I heard PJ yell, "I'm coming in hot!"

I saw the three F-16C's of Crow rush past me and head towards the fight, launching some of their ordinance and thinning out the ball a little.

"Good effect on targets," Eagle Eye remarked,"Keep up the pressure, the forces are weakening!"

I headed back into the fight, targeting a Su-37 Terminator from about a 2,000 foot altitude advantage. As soon as I was about 600 meters out, I gave the 30mm a few bursts, and it absolutely decimated the Yuktobanian made fighter and the Terminator quickly smashed down into the dirt.

"Target confirmed destroyed, Galm 1," Eagle Eye affirmed.

I rushed through the fight and ran into another climb.

"Hey Cipher, I think they're scared of this plane. I can't get anything near me in this thing!" Vixen told me with a laugh.

That's probably a good thing. Don't need her going and getting hurt now.

"Mind if I tag along?" she asked as she formed up on my left wing.

"Don't have much of choice, do I?"

"Nope."

We turned back again towards the fight and I switched over to my sidewinders. Time to get up close and personal. I locked myself onto another Terminator and pulled hard left from my dive into a climb to give chase. I rolled slightly to get a better angle on him as he tried to go low and off to the right to shake me. I sent out some tracers from the 30mm about 1000 yards out, and he immediately recoiled, jumping back to the left and back into my crosshairs.

"Who are those guys?" One of the Osean pilots said.

"That's the Galm Team! The reinforcement team is Galm!"

"They're sure making those birds dance."

The Terminator had then tried to pull a Split-S in front of me, but I fired my cannon, leading him nicely. The Belkan didn't see it, and flew right into it, effectively sawing the plane if half. I rode up high again.

"Kill confirmed for Cipher," I heard Vixen say in astonishment, "I just can't keep up!"

"I got one over here," Pixy said with a hint of something sinister in his voice, "I'm heading back your way."

I cracked a smile as a hopped on the tail of a Su-27 Flanker, disposing of him with a sidewinder in less than seven seconds. I moved away again, and re-engaged from a higher altitude, snagging a Mig-29 Fulcrum from long range with an AMRAAM. I then dove hard onto another Flanker striking him across the fuselage with the cannon, and forced him to exfil because of the damage. My IFF then went off, with what looked like eight to twelve targets rolling in fast from the north.

"Galm and Crow teams, we're picking up enemy reinforcements from the north, keep your eyes peeled, these look like some more aces, but I know you can take them!" Eagle Eye said encouragingly.

"Pixy, Vixen, form up. We're taking the bogies."

"Roger buddy, I'm right behind you," Solo Wing responded.

"Let's knock them down hard," Vixen snarled, "For Buzzard."

Right as we were ready to get a visual, a small Belkan Mig-21 shot right over us. He didn't even bother to shoot at us.

"What was that?!" Vixen yelled

"Looks like a Belkan running scared. If these guys are making their own guys run it can't be good," I replied adjusting the focus on my radar screen. There were eight targets in the front formation and about another eight or nine in the second flight.

As we finally got into visual range, my stomach dropped. The lead flight was the Schwarze squadron, the very one that the Indigo pilot had warned us about. The Escapee Killers. They flew Mig-31s, one of the fastest birds in the sky, draped in a veil of black and red. They looked like the very embodiment of evil, and of what was wrong with Belka.

"Pixy, push high and engage from up top to scatter 'em. Vixen and I will get on their tails once you move. Crow team, push their asses and make them move south, I want them to feel uncomfortable. Get going!"

Multiple rogers came through my radio as I flipped back over to my AMRAAMs waiting for Pixy to stir the pot.

This keeps getting more strange as it goes on.

From my 10 o'clock high, I saw a stream of tracer rounds and missile contrails rain down on the Schwarze squadron, and they dispersed pretty quickly. Pixy actually shot down one of the Foxhounds in the rear of the formation. I locked onto the lead plane of the formation and started my dive from about 20,000 feet. The Belkan, in an instant, had already reversed and was already coming head-on at me. He launched a sidewinder my way, and I switched over to mine and launched one in retaliation. We both dove out of the way of missiles with relative ease. I ended up behind another one of the Schwarzes out of the turn so I knocked him right down with an AMRAAM. I turned back into the fight again, chasing down the Schwarze lead, he seemed rather determined to shoot down the little Mig-21 I saw rush past earlier, so I decided to lend a blood-brother a hand. I climbed up above him as he chased the Fishbed, so I had the choice of where to attack. I gave the Eagle full power into my dive, and I engaged my cannon targeting system. I closed in, faster, and faster, and faster, and faster. I was within a few hundred meters of the Foxhound from up high, so I gave him a good burst of the 30mm. The plane sparked and rattled at the rounds hit it, and he began to break off as I passed by them in the dive.

"Galm 3 here, I got one."

"Nice Vixen, keep up the pressure!" I said as I looked back to see the Schwarze back on my tail again, even with the heavy damage. As I turned my head to the sky in front of me, four Mig-31's were closing in on me, and my missile warning was going absolutely nuts. I dove hard for the dirt, evading the missiles, and pushed hard into a Immelmann turn, with the four Schwarzes in front. I let loose a swarm of the AMRAAM missiles and they all wrecked the Belkans within seconds. With half their forces gone the 'Vulture', Schwarze's lead, was pressing really hard to get onto my tail. Despite the fact that his ailerons and rudders were shot to hell, he was still chasing. I simply activated my burners and accelerated away.

"Pixy there's a wounded one there ready for destruction."

"I got him in my sights."

I could see Pixy's Eagle dive from up high, and he rained hot lead right onto his head, rupturing the fuel tanks right as he bailed out. The Vulture had managed to escape with his life, barely.

"He's gone, for good." Pixy replied smugly, I could almost see a wry smile from where I was.

"Where's the last one? I thought there was eight?"

"You'll have to see it for yourself," The solo wing pilot answered his aura changed to one of astonishment.

And I did need to see it myself. We joined Vixen who was sitting at about 25,000 feet watching the last Schwarze fight with an Osean F-14A Tomcat down below. The Osean pilot was running the Belkan ragged, dancing all around behind his trail, giving him several good bursts of cannon fire. As they snaked over to the mountain range, the Osean fired a sidewinder, and the final Schwarze's plane met the cold, hard ground. I was pretty impressed.

"Who's that?" I asked Vixen.

"Don't know, just saw him chasing him after I locked onto him, and I figured I would let him have the Belkan," she replied with indifference, "Not like I'm into kill-scores or anything."

The Tomcat then rose back up and joined us.

"The name's Bartlett, Galm 1, callsign Heartbreak One. Sorry if I got in the way, Galm 3."

"Nah, no big deal. Figured you had him handled, and you did. Nice work," she answered kindly.

"You're pretty good," I replied, "You keep that up Heartbreak One."

"Thanks, Galm 1. That means a lot."

My attention turned back to the fight as I caught sight of a Su-47 chasing after the little Mig I had saved earlier.

"Let's go help a brother out, protect that Mig!"I ordered as I pushed the Eagle down again, and I locked onto the fighter.

I flipped back onto the afterburners and rolled off to the left onto an intercept course for the Berkut. But, I was way too late. The little 21, was already burning, and the pilot was forced to bail out into the Round Table.

"There was something funny about that Belkan's flying," Pixy mused as we continued our attack run.

I closed in on the Berkut, but I overshot my initial attack. However, what I saw on the tail of the plane drove me mad. The Devil Snake. Ashley was here.

"OH YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled as I turned back on combat power for the Berkut. As soon as I was riding his tail, I heard that voice. The voice that made my blood boil. The voice of a murderer, the man with the blood of five of my friends and my family. There was judgement waiting for him, and I was going to drive him straight to hell.

"Oh hallo, junge! Having a good time are we?" Ashley roared with real venom in his voice, "Let's fight for blood this time!"

He reversed within seconds and fired a QAAM at Heartbreak One, shooting him down. Luckily, Bartlett had seen the move and ejected safely.

"Now that's better! Michael, you Herz arsehole! Get over here!" Ashley growled, "The junge's here."

"Verpiss dich Ashley! I can't wait to kill this jerk who's caused us so much trouble!"

Swarms of radar signatures were all coming for me, from all directions. A squadron of Su-47's joined Ashley's wings and Michael's group of F-15 MTD/S's were bearing down on me too. I was riding really low, maybe only 500 feet off the ground, desperately shaking off the missiles and cannon-fire.

"Where the hell are you Pixy?"

"We're coming Cipher! Just hold on, these guys are holding us back!" Vixen yelled, the concern very evident in her voice.

"Oh her again, junge?" Ashley sneered once more, "Maybe I should just kill the bitch now!"I saw a single Berkut break off and head after Vixen in a vertical climb. I had to get him. And the drive to do so, I entered a space so rarely frequented by fighter pilots, let alone anyone.

The Zone.

It's a state of absolute focus, absolute control. Wherever I wanted the plane to go, I could get it there. Never missing a shot, punching well above my weight. That's what the Zone does, it puts you as close as anyone could feel to invincible.

As I chased Ashley all the sound drained away from my ears, like a running faucet being shut off. It was dead silent, my eyesight was as sharp as a razor-blade, I could see the planes clear as day all around me. Ashley was in my sights, and he wasn't getting away. I fired two AMRAAMs at him, and he was forced to break off his attack on Vixen.

"What the...?"

I attacked again, in a sweeping move, dropping right over him firing a two second burst of the Mk 108, damaging his frame heavily. The Berkut was struggling to maintain altitude. Michael came back over in retaliation, but Pixy was quick to the punch and made a run of his own striking the MTD with a good spattering of cannon fire. I continued through my climb attacking some of Ashley's compadres in the other 47's. There was still no sound in my ears as the Galm Team did its own dance in the sky, the wrecks just kept tumbling, one by one the fighters all fell.

_That kind of pilot, they call a Demon Lord..._

I was in pursuit of another Berkut as I released my last sidewinder. The tame little missile worked its charms and hit dead center on the engines. One more wreck was entering the graveyard below, burning straight to hell. The smoke in the Round Table was insane, covering most of the low levels above ground in a hazy black fog. But the battle still raged.

I turned once more to Ashley's barely working scrap heap, and steeled myself. He was just circling down below.

"Hey Pixy! It's Bristow, you were right. It's happening just as before,"

"Yeah, too bad isn't it?" Solo Wing replied with a sigh.

"Think it's time to change it all?"

"No. Not yet."

I mentally wanted to scream at him, but I didn't care really anymore. If he was going to do that, I was just going to shoot him down like I said I was. But again, I doubted myself. Pixy. Probably one of the two of my best friends left. Could I do that? Kill my friend after all that has happened? Shit, I don't have a clue.

In my moment of doubt, Michael, the bastard, had taken advantage and came after me.

"Knock, knock, Junge! You awake in there?" He taunted as he came down from up high grazing my bird with gunfire. I responded pulling a Split-S and running straight into the low-level smoke cloud covering the Table. Michael had no choice except to follow. I was flying totally blind. I had no clue where I was or where I was going. I weaved about left and right trying to get an idea of where I know was, having hurtled about at 800 mph, when the mountains rushed into my view. I didn't even panic. I pulled hard back on the stick, and I'm sure I might of grazed the rocks with the belly of the Eagle through that climb, and I the only thing I heard was a explosion behind me. One down, one to go.

"Where are you Ashley?" I called mockingly as I escaped the clutches of the hazy smoke, "You too much of a coward to face the Devil?!"

I saw the Berkut off to my three o'clock, limping towards me. Pathetic. I banked on full burn and faced him head on. It was time. Time to end the pain. Time to end the sorrow. I pulled the trigger. My father's guns roared in anger at his killer. The Berkut rattled and shook from the 30mm lead piercing through its armor like butter. Ashley turned away, but I continued to hound him. I sat 100m behind him, jeering him all the way.

"That's all you got! Guess finally being beat for real shut you up!"

I still garnered no response from him. He was defeated. The Devil Snakes' reign of terror was over. I turned off as I watched his plane fall. It made a slow impact into the ground. There was no explosion. I passed over once more. The urge to shoot him was great, but I didn't. That...would make me no different than him. A cold-blooded man with no regard for anyone or anything.

The Belkans retreated after a few more minutes, and the whole radio channel was silent. What we had done had broken all the traditions. We were the best there probably had ever been. Better than Kellerman, Ritter, and my father. I couldn't even describe the wall of emotions that smacked into me at that moment. It was much like what had hit me over Directus, but this time It was much more positive. I was moving this war forward by our sheer willpower. No matter the obstacle, we would scale it and conquer it. I was the Demon Lord of the Round Table.

I tried to lift up my left arm to knock my visor back up, but my arm remained still. I tugged, and tugged, but I got nothing. I looked down and saw the problem. A cannon shell had ripped through the carbon fiber and my jacket, leaving a hole about the size of a baseball. There was some lubricant, along with some sort of white fluid spewing from it. Just what I needed.

"Eagle Eye, this is Galm 1, I need to RTB, my arm's spewing some weird shit."

"Huh?" the tac-controller responded, knocked out of his daze.

"You know, my arm, the..."

"Oh right! Yeah, you're clear. Galm and Crow Team, RTB."

I set my altitude and course on the autopilot, and switched it on. The plane did all the moves for me, as I put a rag over the hole to keep the crap from getting all over my jacket.

"Goddamn it Cipher!" Vixen cried, "When are you going to take it easy for once!"

"Oh quit your yapping, I didn't even feel it. I'm fine anyway, it was the bionic arm."

"Still!" she replied with a pout, "Can you just try to be more careful for once?"

"Well with Michael and Ashley gone for good, I think I can babe."

I could almost see her face going red at that exact moment. All I heard was a chuckle from Pixy.

"Cipher, you're not going to believe what your kill count was," Eagle Eye called.

"Let me guess...fifteen?"

"Nope, twenty-five! You officially have 76 kills!"

"You're kidding!" PJ shouted in complete amazement, "That has to be the highest number of planes anyone has shot down in a single sortie! Cipher's the undisputed champion now!"

"I'm buying you a couple beers when we get back, blimey kid!" Jericho added, "You put on a hell of a show.

As the applause and congratulations came over the radio, my mind was on one thing. A couple of beers? That doesn't sound too bad to me right now.

* * *

-May 28, 1995 2100hrs. Valais AFB-

Oh my god. A couple of beers was an total understatement. When we landed it was looney central. I got my arm removed right away, since the damage was so great it would have to be replaced, and headed to The Jet Wash for the party. The booze was flowing like water from a tap. There was no shortage of alcohol, and everyone had a couple of drinks, hell, even Moritz might have drank some in the confusion. However, my night ended early since I had to report to Oured in the morning for the briefing. I left the Jet Wash around 2105 hrs. with Mortiz, and headed back to the GHQ and my room. However, I saw a piano out in the hall where my room was , and there was a bench too. Why would that be there? I glanced both ways down the hall. No one.

"What the hell, why not," I muttered as I sat down propping my cane up against the wall. I took my place and started to play the only song I knew how to play on the piano. It was a song my father said he sang to me when I was baby. I taught it to myself when I was 14, and I played it every once in a while to keep it fresh. With one hand, this was going to be a little tricky. I started out just by playing the chords, and once I felt confident enough, I worked into the melody and began to sing.

_When you're weary, feeling small_

_When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all_

_I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough_

_And friends just can't be found_

God this feels good!

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will lay me down_

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will lay me down..._

I played into a small solo, just improving my way through it. Scales can kiss my ass. Moritz just sat there in silence, his tongue hanging out his mouth. I petted him on the head as I took a little break, but right as I was about to open my mouth as I started again, I heard a female voice come from behind me, and it picked up from where I left off.

_When you're down and out_

_When you're on the street_

_When evening falls so hard_

_I will comfort you_

_I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes_

_And pain is all around_

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will lay me down_

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will lay me down_

I looked back and saw Vixen standing there, looking rather groggy from the alcohol with a wry smile on her lips. She still managed to sing it straight, I was pretty impressed with that. I motioned for her to sit down next to me, and she did without hesitation. As she flicked her blonde hair out from her face, I started the final part of the song.

_Sail on silver girl_

_Sail on by_

_Your time has come to shine_

_All your dreams are on their way_

_See how they shine_

_Oh, if you need a friend_

Then Vixen joined me in singing the last part of the song.

_I'm sailing right behind_

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will ease your mind_

_Like a bridge over troubled water_

_I will ease your mind..._

I kept my foot on the sustain pedal as the last chords slowly faded out. I looked over at her and couldn't help but think, God, I picked the right girl, she's perfect. She leaned over and kissed me, for what seemed like a damn hour. I loved it, she was really here. Here for me. I never had something like that my whole life. It felt like I had finally accomplished something real. Bigger than my flying or any of that. We finally pulled away from the kiss.

"If you'd told me I was in love with the best fighter ace in the world a few months ago," Vixen spoke as I held her in my arms, "I would have called bullshit."

"I'm sure of that," I said as I shook my head around with a goofy look on my face, "The great Vicki Ickx knows all! Everything, I tell you! Sharp as knife that girl is!"

"Oh, shut up you big doofus," she said as she kissed me again.

I guess, that's life!

* * *

**Glossary:**

**The Zone: NOT THE GOD DAMN DANGER ZONE. This is an actual phenomena. As an athlete, you have to really try to figure out how to trigger it yourself, but it's pretty hard to do. Only the best can. I've experienced it a few times, and man is it awesome.**

**COC: Change in Command. I've actually been to one. It is kind of a party, at least after it happens.**

**Mk. 108: That's the actual cannon the 262 used, effective range was from 600 meters/yards or less. That's why you see that number popping up. Just trying to be realistic folks.**

**The Song: It's Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water. It has gotten me through some tough days recently, so I decided to include it. Don't be surprised to see more music in the story in the future.**

**I guess, that's life!: Reference to the Frank Sinatra song, That's Life. If you don't Frank Sinatra, I don't even know what to say.**


	16. Chapter 16: Sometimes I Feel So Deserted

_Every day kill just one, rather than today five, tomorrow ten . . . that is enough for you. Then your nerves are calm and you can sleep good, you have your drink in the evening and the next morning you are fit again._

_Oberst Erich Hartmann, Luftwaffe, 352 kills. Most successful fighter pilot of all time._

* * *

Ch. 16 Sometimes I Feel So Deserted

-May 29, 1995 0430hrs-

I was woken up by my alarm, which liked to scream in face, a lot. I shut it off with a quick hit with my clenched fist as I rolled out of my bed. I hadn't bothered to change out of my flight suit when I hit the sack last night, so I had one less thing to do. I decided against the wearing the great-coat as I threw my leather flight jacket over my shoulders with my right hand. I grasped my cane firmly, and poked Moritz awake with it. He just rolled over towards me, laying in his dog bed and gave me a really pouty look.

"Not today, pal. We'll get some real rest later," I whispered softly as I scratched his ears.

After a little more prodding, we were out and up into the hall heading for mess. To my surprise, Vixen was already there at a table with my food and coffee ready for me.

"Thanks, I needed that," I said as I gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"Nah, It's nothing," she replied with a smirk and a wink.

I took my seat opposite of her and took a big swig of my coffee. It tasted bloody good. Breakfast was the usual, some sort of meat, some sort of potatoes, and a little fruit to top it off. I didn't really care what it was, it was food, and I was hungry and hungover.

"I hope this isn't going to be a big publicity fest," I muttered as I took a bite out of my meat, some simple sliced bacon.

"Ugh. If it is you might as well kill me now," She said lowering her head and letting it bang into the table, "Today's just not the day to do this. Especially with what happened yesterday. I might just blow a fuse."

"I feel ya," I responded as I gently took hold of her hand with mine. She glanced up at me and smiled once more, gaining her vigor back again.

Moritz hopped on the chair next to me and tried to curl up to go to sleep again. Another small poke went his way with the cane.

"Nope. You can sleep on the plane," I ordered.

He whined as he sat up and stared at Vixen.

"You're not getting any sympathy from me Moritz," Vixen chuckled as she returned to her food.

We got out orders for immediate take-off by an adjutant so we hurried to our planes. Pixy and PJ were not required to come since they didn't plan the attack, so they were having the day off. My Eagle and Vixen's Widow were parked outside the hangar ready for us to take to the skies. Lothar was, as always, ready to help us in.

"Off to the big show, eh?" the mechanic chirped as I hopped in the saddle of the Eagle and slapped my helmet on, keeping my crusher cap on underneath it.

"Yeah, not sure I want any part in it Lothar," I chuckled.

"Well, they really can't do anything to you, like you said to them before, you're their best pilot. I doubt they're going to go out and openly shame Osea's best hope in finishing this," he responded as he fastened my belts and helped me strap my helmet on. "How long are you there for?"

"Hopefully, not long. Sounds like an early morning de-brief then we leave. Did Henrik and the Edelweiß already leave?"

"Yeah they got on the C-17 about an hour ago, you'll probably beat them there anyway. Henrik told me to give you this, said he thought you might want it. "

I nodded in answer as he handed me the item It was a black balaclava mask. You read my mind, Henrik. I had Lothar help me put it on, and then help me get the pile of things back onto my head. Moritz finally sprinted out of the GHQ and hopped up into my lap. After that, Lothar stepped down the ladder and went to go check on Vixen, who was parked over to my right.

She was still in her seat as she glanced over my way as she was putting her mask on and gave me a thumbs-up. I started up the engines and gave the wave-off. I put the Eagle onto the flight line.

"You good back there Vixen?"

"I copy Cipher, readings are good."

"Let's get going, I don't want the boys in the Globemaster to beat us, I know we'll be getting an earful all day if they do."

"Agreed! Let's go!"

Off to the flight line and we were in the air and on our way in 30 seconds. We just flew in a parallel formation on close to full afterburner in the orange morning sky. Morning was always a nice time to fly. The sky was prettier, not quite as much traffic, and military priority let us fly anywhere we wanted altitude wise, so we could run high to get the thin air and push hard. We decided on 35,000 feet for the flight plan to the south, and based on the Globemaster's last broadcasted position we would catch them in less than an hour.

I kept the plane on autopilot but retained manual throttle control. I was glad to be back in the air for once. The more time I spent on the ground, and the more things I learned about how much this war was screwed up, the more I wanted to get away from it all. The flying and Vixen were the only things keeping me sane. I seriously doubt I would of made it this far without her.

The sun was finally totally over the eastern horizon of to our left. Moritz was at ease as he stared off into the sun. I scratched the loyal hund's head, as my mind for once, rested. It was just a calm before the storm. Vixen and I both knew it. The Edelweiß knew it. We all knew it. It was all just up to luck, what fate held in store for our future.

The catch-up was silent. We didn't really want to talk. We had precious silence we would be deprived of for who knows how long.

At about 0600 hrs we made visual contact with the C-17, and the pilots were a bit disappointed we caught them up.

"We got you on scope Galm Team, this is Camelback. Thought we had you this time!" The globe master's pilot exclaimed as we formed up off of the right wing.

"Galm 1 here, you know, we do have afterburners Camelback," I responded with a small smirk, "And we're not against using them."

"I don't blame you for using 'em, Galm 1. I'd use 'em if we had the damned things," Camelback replied as he let out a long sigh, "This beats a northern hop any day of the week."

"Is it already that bad Camelback?" Vixen asked.

"Shit, those Belkans don't make it easy. They have fighters ready to pounce on all the supply routes, air and ground. You'd think those routes are clear by now, but somehow they have whole squadrons breaking through and hitting us. It's not easy, since we rarely get escorts. It's down to sheer luck now."

"When do you have to back doing the runs?" I inquired.

"In a month, I believe. They're giving me a break after this job's done, maybe I can see my family for a little while," Camelback chimed as we finally hit the water over the Oured bay. 0700. Three hours from brief time. "Alright, Galm Team, they've given us clearance to land at Taylor on the outskirts of Oured. I'll be leading, just stay close and stay behind me."

"Roger Camelback, complying," I rattled off as Vixen and I pulled back and took our positions behind his tail.

The C-17 made a small banking turn towards the east, and we copied the move easily. Oured was now visible to the west. The skyscrapers and buildings stuck out prominently from the water. It almost looked like the city itself was floating on the water. After a few more minutes on cruise, Camelback led us back to the west and we were now back over land. The airport was in the southern part of the city, a smaller one compared to the massive Apito International to the east, Taylor Airport was mainly used for smaller regional airlines, and was the Osean president's main airfield. The runway lights were finally starting to go out on the ground with the sun rising ever higher.

"Camelback here, we're hitting final approach. Looks like they got a big welcoming committee down there."

Just what we had expected.

"Alright we're ready when you are," I replied with a sigh as I relaxed back in my seat.

"Copy, beginning descent."

I pulled slightly back on the stick as I throttled back and lowered the flaps. The engines' whines significantly decreased, as I could now hear the air rushing past the plane. It was loud as hell. The airport wasn't as big as I had envisioned, but man, they had crammed nearly everyone they could off to the sides of it. We landed in as quickly as possible and pulled off to the hangar line to the left-hand side.

The people were everywhere, the press, civvies, other military members, kids, all coming to try and get a glimpse of me. The pilot who was now something bigger than just a man. I had become a myth.

I had become a legend.

As soon as I hit full-stop, the ground crews rushed up and helped me out. I left my helmet on the seat as I grabbed my cane from the storage compartment in the cockpit, and sealed the canopy. I joined up with Vixen as we walked over to the Globemaster to greet the boys. All the while, the cameras were going off like nuts. Except this time they were meant for me. I had never had any sort of attention like this before, ever. The Edelweiß troop of course, was wearing their full dress blacks, and it was now I realized how decorated these dudes were. They all had at least 10 individual medals, and several had Teresa's like me. They all chose to wear balaclava masks too. We only found Henrik, because he found us first. He also had a Teresa dangling below his neck.

"You guys doing alright?" Henrik asked in monotone, completely unaffected by what was going on around us.

"Yeah we're good," I responded as Moritz was rubbing hard into my legs, wanting some attention from me, "Oh fine, you spoiled brat."

I scratched him on his back, with Vixen scratching the hund behind his ears. Henrik just shook his head.

"That's a true Wielvakian hound, that one," Henrik chuckled, "Always wanting something more."

"You know where the briefing is at?" I asked.

"Nah, our orders were just to wait until they pick us up and take us wherever it is. Probably going to be the Pentagon, is my guess," the mountain trooper answered as he lit up a cigarette and pulled his mask up so he could smoke it.

After another ten minutes some troop transport trucks came in and we all loaded up in the back of them. Lots of MPs had to lead the way on motorcycles because the crowds were so big. It was like the whole city was coming out to see us. As the trucks rattled on, the other troopers sitting with us all just had their heads bowed, almost as if in shame. As we pushed further into downtown, so many questions were racing in my head.

Why? Why me?

What makes me special?

What about my friends?

Why does no one care about them? Why do they not care about the soldiers on the other side who died to make me a legend? Why is this slaughter celebrated?

Vixen tucked her head onto my shoulder as the truck kept rumbling on. All of our heads were now bowed. I understood why.

They would never understand the living hell we went through every day in combat. They were ignorant to the games that were played with our lives. We knew that no matter who we talked to, they wouldn't understand. All we had was each other, and we did not need to speak to each other to describe what we felt.

The trucks continued on through downtown, and I turned around to look at all the buildings and places we were passing by. Oured had no charm at all, it was all that modernized, contemporary junk. At least Directus and Dinsmark had something there to remind them of their history. This was all artificial. I turned back again to face the troops again.

After ten more silent minutes, at least we were silent, the convoy arrived at the Pentagon. The pictures never truly gave meaning to how big this place was. It was massive, looked to be at least five or six stories high, and only god knows how long the sides of that grey monstrosity were. It was the one building in Oured I was impressed with.

The trucks made a full-stop right in front of the structure, and we hopped out and made our way inside. Minister Graf was there waiting for us. We all saluted and he returned it firmly.

"Good to see you again, Oberst Völler and Hauptmann Ickx," he said as we shook hands.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Herr Marshall," I replied, Vixen looked rather relieved as well.

"Well, today's the day we see what happens. From what I'm told it's going to be the Secretary of Defense and the Joint Chiefs. They're not going to make it easy for us, I'm afraid," the Minister replied as he scratched his chin. He didn't look very optimistic about our chances. I don't think anyone was.

A Osean Brigadier General came up to our officer group, and requested we follow him to the briefing room.

"Time to face the music," Graf muttered, but in that moment he changed back to his old self, "Henrik, get the men into formation, we're going to show them we aren't some unorganized rabble."

"Yes sir!" the Wielvakian beamed, "Fall in! Fill the ranks, come on boys! Let's look sharp!"

We filled the entire hall to the room with our formation. Everyone around us just stopped to look at us. Moritz was marching along happily beside me and Vixen, and Graf led the way. I'm sure he felt was back in his old days of the officer corps, of many years past.

Our formation entered the briefing room, which was huge, and they definitely had to modify it to accommodate close to 50 people that would be testifying before the committee. I sat with the minister on my right, with Moritz behind me, while Vixen and Henrik were to my left.

There was no one else in here besides us. The press and everyone else had been barred from attending this. Thank the lord.

However, I was soon regretting that, because what these guys were about to do was shocking. The set of joint chiefs that I had met was gone. Yes, totally removed, even the ones that had badmouthed me. This was a whole new set of guys. I didn't recognize any of them. The only one I sort of could tell who they were was the Defense Secretary, Donald Hanesfield. He was a shorter, pudgy looking fellow, but he wore a face of pure anger and disgust. The short cut he had on his brown hair looked rather stupid and not evenly trimmed. That was a red flag already.

"Now let's begin shall we?" Hanesfield spoke nonchalantly as he turned his attention to Graf. "Now minister, in what right world do we authorize attacks on Osean Air Force bases, your own allies in this war? Did you honestly believe that this would go unchecked?"

"Excuse me sir, but according to the act we signed when you entered the war, the Kinsman act, we hold final authority on bases and actions that are within our borders. This was no exception to the rule."

He scowled, knowing one of his avenues of attack was now gone.

"Would you care to elaborate to us on what went on Minister?" Hanesfield asked again, following actual protocol for once.

"Certainly. I received a report from Major Magnussen of the Ustian Mountain Corps, along with Colonel Erich Völler who is an officer in the Ustian Air Force, as you already know. They gave me information that illustrated that Colonel Völler's life, along with the lives of several other pilots were in danger, due to the poor commanding choices and harsh treatment of Valais AFB personnel by the newly instated commander Colonel Henry Perrault. After reviewing the information, I gave the green light for the Mountain Corps to parachute into the base to retake it, with support in the air from Colonel Völler and Captain Vicki Ickx. The objective was achieved within an hour, but we lost two pilots of the Galm Team who were held hostage and executed by Perrault, Mercenary lieutenants George Kildaire, and Zero."

The room was silent. I looked over to Graf and he winked at me. That was a pretty good run-down of what happened.

"Were there any forces that you know of that assisted Perrault besides Osean forces stationed there?" the Secretary asked, without any consideration of the presented report.

Have they no care for their lives? No sort of 'sorry for your loss' or anything like that. A complete gloss-over. Typical.

"Not that we were aware of sir. From our observations at the end of the battle, the conflict was rather bloodless except for the loss of pilots. Most of the Oseans surrendered before any fighting could occur. The only one who actually fought was Perrault."

"I see," Hanesfield said as he placed his hand on his chin, "But what about the tanks that attacked the base?"

"Excuse me?" the minister said in fake astonishment, "What tanks are you speaking of?"

"There was a destroyed group of Abrams tanks in the field around the airbase which were strafed and destroyed by 30mm rounds," the Air Force chief chimed in.

"I don't recall any tanks being involved…,"Graf began once more, but the Secretary had other plans.

"Enough! I think we need to talk to the pilots about this, Colonel Völler?" Hanesfield barked my way.

"Sir?" I immediately replied.

"Did you see any tanks, or did you attack any tanks during the engagement?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"100 percent sure, sir. There were no outside forces involved in this attack."

"Now Colonel, enough with the lies. We know there were tanks, and it was your cannon that fired the shots," Hanesfield shot.

"Well then, enlighten me, Secretary. What actual proof do you have that I did such a thing?" I was pushing him. I had a hunch that he probably was told this and did not legally obtain the information. If my hunch was right, I could end this here and now.

"We have your gun camera footage," the air force secretary began as a recording of my attack now played behind him on a projector.

"If this is real, and I doubt it highly," the chiefs grumbled at that remark, "Who took this from my plane?"

"Why the mechanic of course would have to," Hanesfield answered cheekily.

"Then that's not real."

"Excuse me?"

"My mechanic, Lothar Wolff, has not touched any of the gun cameras since the start of the war. So, that means that while I was gone from the base on leave, one of your people took the footage out, illegally."

"Why is it illegal?" the army chief spat out, "We have the right to retain all these sorts of information pertaining to mission activity."

"Not if you do so without a viable and provable warrant. May I see the warrant you used that allowed you to obtain my gun footage?"

Dead silent.

"So you don't have one?"

Nothing. Game over, I win.

"Alright this is finished, we're leaving."

Everyone in our delegation started to stand up, but these men had other ideas.

"Now Colonel, we know about your father and what he did," Hanesfield snarled, desperately trying to rouse me.

"Woop-de-doo. That was 50 years ago. I'm still leaving, Mister Secretary. Good day."

"But it's what's before that, that really is interesting. Your father's name, and your family name isn't real."

What.

"Your father, this Tomas Völler, isn't using his real name. He was born Manfred Von Falkenberg of Herzuissa. This Aristocratic family has been noted for supporting radical Rald policies during the Osean War and to this very day. So, why would we even trust your word? You're probably trying to cover for the fact you're actually a Belkan radical. I think that's enough to end it for you, Colonel. Arrest him."

No. It…. just can't... It can't be!

I didn't even resist. They came and grabbed me, and dragged me out of the room. The briefing continued on as I was taken out, despite the chaos. Everyone was shouting and trying to get to me. More MPs just ran in. Moritz chased after me, but a officer clubbed him in the head with his nightstick and knocked him out cold. They took me down to the basement, and they threw me in a cell towards the rear and locked the door. After a while, they threw Moritz in there too, still struggling and fighting. He was awake and ok, miraculously, just very, very winded. After about half an hour, he was walking again, albeit at a very slow pace. There was a cot in the cell, so I took my hat off and lied down.

It was then I noticed I wasn't the only one down here. There were a lot more cells around. Political prisoners. Jesus christ. This can't be happening without the President knowing.

After another hour down there, Graf showed up outside my door with another man accompanying him. I didn't even stir from the spot.

"They gonna keep me here forever?" I asked.

"No."

The door slid open. And who was standing next to Graf? The bloody man I needed to see, the President of Osea. Yes, the goddamn President, John Dawkins, flesh and blood. The man was six feet tall, with perfectly shaped black hair. His blue eyes really stood out from his face. He was in a black suit, of course, and seemed very disturbed.

"I'm sorry Colonel for how these 'men' have acted towards you," he sighed as he held out his hand, "We should of given you a much better welcome to Oured."

I shook his hand hard, and he then turned his attention to Moritz, who was in the corner barking, and snarling. After that hit, I don't blame him.

"I'm sorry," the President lowered his head, and Moritz stopped and cocked his head in response, "This whole event perturbs me."

"I can explain it Mr. President. Minister Graf, myself, and the rest of the crew can."

"Let's get you to the White House then, I think it would be safer for you and your compatriots."

* * *

\- 1400hrs The White House, Oured Osea-

We were given awesome hospitality at the White House, hell, he even allowed for us all to spend the rest of the afternoon here. I was reunited with the crew, greeted by a flurry of cheers in front of the White House. As we went inside, I met up with Vixen who was by herself, her face in her hands, sobbing quietly to herself.

"Hey, you ok?" I asked as I walked towards her.

"Oh my god, Erich!" she yelled out as she came over and hugged me.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"It's just…" Vixen continued as she tried to snuff out her tears, "When they took you away, and after all they said…."

"Shh…" I whispered into her ear as I continued to hold on to her, "I'm fine now."

After a while, she was alright. Still a bit shocked, but good enough to continue on. The President asked for Graf, Henrik, Vixen, and myself to the Oval Office for the chat. The rest of the guys would get to go eat some lunch. They deserved it after that mess.

It was pretty unreal that we were in the Oval Office, you know, just one of the most important rooms in the world.

The President motioned for us to sit on couches that sat facing each other. He took a seat in a chair on the side of the room we came in, facing the famous desk and the only windows in the room.

"Now Minister," the President began his strong voice pounding into our ears, "Would you enlighten me on what's really going on here, and what's really at stake?"

"Of course, sir," the old soldier replied with a wry grin.

-1600 hrs.-

We had told him everything. Everything. Gründer, the mercenaries, Perrault's defection, and everything else we could remember. It was a big bombshell to drop on him.

He told us that he would think on it for a few days, then let us know course that would be taken. The President assured us that we would be safe from harm, at least from our side. With that done, we were shipped back out to Taylor Airport, the roads were now silent and empty. We came out of that hole brighter than we went in, despite the chaos. I figured that now we had someone influential on our side, we might be able to get some real change done when this is all over.

When we arrived back at the airport, I noticed there were some old planes positioned down the hangar line. They looked like a mix between early jets and late prop fighters, so I was tempted to check them out.

"Are my eyes deceiving me, Vixen?" I spoke as I stared off at the old birds.

"Nah, I don't think they are," she answered as she took her place next to me with Moritz poised next to me.

"Wanna go look?"

"Sure, doesn't bother me."

Then that nagging voice came into my head as we walked to them. My father.

The legendary ace.

Lies.

His name is a lie.

But, what his exploits weren't lies. That truth was enough for me. A name is a name. It can be changed easily. But the soul does not change, and I knew my father's soul. He was not that kind of a man.

They old girls were very, very pretty. A P-80 Shooting Star, P-38 Lightnings, F6F Hellcats, Gloster Meteors, there were millions upon millions of dollars of old birds sitting here. I was in my own sort of heaven.

"They don't fly much anymore," an old voice crackled behind me, "But they still hold up."

I turned around to find an medium height man, that looked somewhat similar to my father. The fighter pilot build. Blue eyes, sharp as a hawk's. Well trimmed, and some wrinkles. He had a narrow frame, but seemed rather imposing for his age. He wore an older leather CWU much more in the vein of my jacket. A leatherneck.

"Guten Tag, freunde," I replied. This would test him.

"Belkan, eh?" the old-time chuckled, "But, something tells me you are more than just a mere piloten, you are a jäger."

"Very astute of you, you are a jäger too."

"Some of us have to be hunters, but my time was long, long ago."

"What's your name?" Vixen asked.

"Dwight Autenberry, flew one of those P-38's you can see over there. And your's?"

"Vicki Ickx, I fly with the Galm Team."

His face changed. The jaw had dropped.

"Then you..."

"Erich...Von Falkenberg, I'm flight lead for Galm. Son of Reaper One."

But then, the biggest smile I'd ever seen anyone have appeared on Dwight's face.

"You are Reaper's son?"

"Yes, I have his 262 with me on the base, but the 109 crashed after a landing about a year ago. Damn shame," I said as I turned away from them both.

"He was a hell of a pilot, that one."

No, that can't be a pure conincidence.

"Wait, you flew against him?" I inquired as I turned back to him.

"Yes, many times. Hell, before I even became a fighter pilot, I had already met him in the skies. Glad to hear he made it out ok, I had feared the worst with all that happened after the war."

I went over to Dwight and shook his hand.

"I'm glad you do not direct so much hatred towards my people."

"Don't mention it, young reaper. I learned rather quickly that war's not a easy thing to understand. Your father was an exception to many rules, and opened my eyes to many things."

I heard some shouting as the Edelweiß troops were motioning for us to come back. Must be time to go.

"Thanks Dwight, you helped right some things in my mind,"

"Young reaper, you're already so much like you father you have no idea. If you ever need to reach me," Dwight said as he pulled out a small card, "My number's on there. I live not too far from here, so give me a call or look me up whenever you're back in town."

"I will, thank you," I said as Vixen and I turned around and we sprinted back to our planes. As I looked back, the old hunter held up a hand as a farewell. I answered with a wave. He nodded and walked back past the old planes, to wherever he came from.

"That guy was cool," Vixen said as we got back to our fighters.

"No kidding. Moritz!"

I was now seated in my ejector seat as Moritz bounded into my lap. The crews helped me buckle in, and we were ready to head back. Camelback lead the way again, back towards our cold world of war.

The whole flight back, the whole name thing was still bugging me. What had caused my father to forsake my entire lineage? What sort of terrible thing could of caused him to do that? Or was there something else to it?

"Hey Cipher," Vixen called as the sun was just now beginning to set on the western horizon.

"What's up?"

"About that whole name thing, you gonna take the Von Falkenberg thing now?"

"I don't know," I answered as I loosened my helmet slightly, "Probably will."

"Do you have any idea why your dad changed his name?"

"None. I'm going to do some digging in the 262 soon to try and find out."

I looked over to her in the 23 and she just nodded. After some more time flying we finally made it back and landed. Lothar was there waiting for us.

"How'd it go?"

"Well, it's a long story. And I'm too tired to explain it right now. Let's just say that I had a bit of an identity crisis."

"Ha! If that's the worst of it, I think that's a pretty good day."

He has a point.

"I'll take care of this, you guys go get some chow," the mechanic replied.

"Thanks bro," I shot back, our fists bumping on my dismount.

Vixen came over to me and took my hand as we walked back to GHQ. Moritz was already on full sprint there. That damn dog. Vixen leaned over into my shoulder.

"I'll love you always, Erich, no matter what name you have," she whispered quietly as we walked on.

"I love you to. Nothing will ever separate us," I responded honestly.

Back to being me. I guess that's one answer to it.


	17. Chapter 17: Bloody Sunday

_Numquam domandi(Latin for:Never to be tamed)- RAF squadron motto_

* * *

Ch. 17 Bloody Sunday

-May 31, 1995 0900hrs.-

I spent the rest of my time off digging through the 262, and I managed to find my father's old journal stashed behind one of the instrument panels. He had documented all of the sorties he went on, and went into detail about some other things that happened during the Osean War, with the name Dwight popping up several times. And after all that, he still had written in it up to his death, documenting his thoughts about my childhood, and there was even an entry on the day that I left for the Air Force, and to my surprise his entry was not as fiery as he was to me, but remorseful and sad.

But the entry that caught my eye was the very last one, on the very last page of the journal. It read,

_To Erich:_

_Probably by now you already know all my secrets, otherwise you wouldn't have come looking for this. I hid it from you because I love you too much, and I didn't want you to suffer from the same pains I had myself when I flew in that damned war 50 years ago. But from what I've heard, you've taken well to it, and you're happy. To me, there's nothing more that makes me feel proud than having a son who does what he loves for a living. Maybe even one day we can fly together for the first time, and I can tell you the full story of what happened to me. Thank you son, for making this old Krieg Adler(War Eagle) feel proud again._

_T.V. or M.V.F._

I was sitting on my bed when I read those lines, and I couldn't contain all of the emotions that hit me at that moment. It was overwhelming to know that my father had accepted my choice before he had died. To know that put a lot of my troubles, and personal demons to rest. I let some tears flow. It never hurts to cry a little every once in a while.

Vixen came into the room and sat next to me, putting her arm around me.

"What'd it say?" she asked, her voice barely going above a whisper.

"A lot of things. A lot of forgiveness, and joy. My dad, before he died, had accepted my choice."

Vixen gave me a big hug around my neck.

"Well, that's good. I'm glad he made peace with it and you."

"Me too," I said with a small smile.

Vixen got back up and held her hand out to me. "The arm's back, you ready?"

"Yup," I replied.

—A few hours later—

I woke up in a hospital bed, and lifted my left arm to inspect the piece. The black shell on the outside had been hardened and reinforced, along with adding more powerful artificial tendons to increase my own strength. I also noticed there was a sealed envelope sitting on my stomach. I picked it up and inspected it. The only sign of where it came from was red Gründer logo stamp on the back flap. Then it hit me.

Vixen's dad had finally sent the letter!

I opened it quickly, and my hopes of some positive news were quickly dashed.

_To Herr Voller:_

_I apologize for not being so speedy in my return. The B7R incident created some havoc at my end, and I had to lie low for a little while to get some peering eyes off of my back. Congratulations on shooting down the Grabacr and Ofnir. You've really driven some fear into the hearts of the men behind all this. They're terrified, but they've already made some startling moves, and I'll detail them as quickly as I can._

_Firstly, there's been some strange shipments moving from the Lockhill and Northrock production plants that are ending up at Gründer's factories, definitely prototype fighters. The F-22, and YF-23 were in the shipments for sure. I saw something else as well, looked to be a multi-role version of the Raptor with a smaller, fatter body, designation: F-35 Lightning II. Unfortunately I was unable to dig anymore on these airframes, since I was almost discovered doing so._

_Secondly, Gründer has been working hard on cracking the Osean AWACS systems and radio chatter. I'm pretty sure they've already worked it out, along with your callsign, and everyone else within your group. The best course of action would probably be to establish an agreed private channel, along with a silent action signal program or SASP. I've sent the hardware and software necessary to do this to your mechanic._

_Lastly, you're marked Erich. As much as I'm sure you already know this, there's a kicker to it as well. Not only do the Belkan General Staff have an active ten million Mark bounty on you, your deployment results in an automatic ace squadron scramble and retaliation. I don't think I need to say it, but I will. Watch your back. Everyone here knows that you're tuned in to the covert actions of the complexes on both sides, and they don't want you talking._

_I better go. They're doing their daily rounds, and I don't want to get caught with this._

_Keep a sharp eye on Vicki, and I pray for your safety in the coming weeks, months, and possibly years._

_WI_

I folded up the letter and stuffed it in my pocket as soon as I could. I put my hands over my eyes and let out a long sigh.

Why does it always have to be me?!

-Next Day, 2100 hrs. 25 miles outside of Hoffnung, Belka. Approx. 20,000 feet-

I cracked the whip hard right as I was cleared from the hospital. We immediately set to work installing the SASP's inside each of the squadron's planes, with the commanding module now inside my cockpit. There were four options, Attack, Cover, Disperse, and Special Weapons clearance. The SP clearance also had an extra double toggle so I could order a priority on air or ground targets. It was a nice thing to have. We also established our private channel at 194.17 mHz. After a talk with Eagle Eye, he agreed to leave us be after issuing primary directives, along with keeping a scrambler ready if they discovered our frequency.

At cruising altitude en route to Hoffnung, I was pretty nervous. Along with all that had happened, this was going to be a night raid. I declined a NVG or HMD attachments because they made me puke in training due to the lag. So, I was going to be at a disadvantage in that respect. But, I didn't make it this far complaining every two seconds.

"Alright everyone, how's the signal coming through?" I called out to the assembled cast of Galm and Crow.

"Clear on my end, buddy," Pixy replied, "Glad we got this fixed."

"No kidding," I added as I relaxed back in my seat. We still had a few minutes before the order relay.

"You doing ok, Cipher?" Vixen asked.

"Yeah, just a little worried, that's all. Your dad risked his skin for us, and in that respect, I'm a little more at ease about this. Vixen, from what he told me, holy shit it's bad."

"Yeah if he sent that note, along with the gear…" she trailed off for a moment as she took a glance towards me from her position off my right wing, "He's dead serious."

"With the details he gave, I don't doubt him," I quietly responded.

"Hey Cipher! Jericho here, Eagle Eye's ready for relay!" Crow's number one shouted to me.

"Roger I'll change and receive."

I twisted the dial on my radio receiver to the old frequency and waited for it to stabilize. After a few moments, I began the protocol for the orders.

"The river is dammed at the head, I repeat the river is dammed at the head, over," I emotionlessly rattled off.

"This is the head, orders are to protect friendly bomber en-route to Hoffnung to bomb industrial targets critical to Belkan war effort. Enemy AA, SAM's, and fighters are your priority in the engagement area. Everything else in secondary. Once in target area, you are clear to engage at will," Eagle Eye spoke calmly.

I'm glad he's not that nervous.

"Do I have the ball, over?" I asked, following protocol for the end of transmission and acceptance of command.

"Roger you have possession. Good luck. Will update you personally if necessary, over and out."

I changed back over to the team's frequency quickly, and began my orders.

"Alright, as briefed we're escorted the 52's on their runs. Crow, you'll take the AA emplacements along the river as planned."

"Jericho copies all, splitting to engage targets."

The three F-16s turned hard and split off away from us to attack their targets.

"Pixy, I want you to watch their backs and keep any low-level aerial threats off of them."

"Roger buddy, I'm Oscar Mike."

The white Eagle rolled and dove for the deck on full afterburner to catch up with the Crow Team.

"And that leaves you and me Vixen, we're on overwatch."

"Alright let's get them Cipher."

I toggled the SASP into Attack mode, and gave SP weapon priority to ground targets. By the time we hit the outskirts of Hoffung, the blaze from the bombing was already illuminating the whole area. And from the position of the bomber formations, something was already off. They were spread way too wide for a surgical strike. The fire was also raging way too far off from the designated bombing zones.

"Jericho," I called out, "Confirm if bombers are going scorched earth, over."

"I can confirm, Cipher. Bombers are straying and are dropping at will."

Damn it! Was this some retaliation from the Joint Chiefs before they got the boot? To punish those people because they knew I would be watching?!

"Come on Vixen, I'm picking up some escorts, and I need something to distract me from how pissed off I am right now."

"I copy, I'm on your tail."

I picked up two Super Flankers riding around 10,000 feet to my 9 o'clock low, right over the center of the city. I banked hard into a turn and rolled into a dive to engage. I got a nice deflection shot for the lead plane, so I let him have some 30mm. Luckily, I managed to strike his tailplanes, which slowed him down significantly and allowed me to turn once more and get on his tail. I dusted him quickly with a sidewinder, while Vixen turned to engage the other Super Flanker which broke formation after the lead took the missile.

I broke off and climbed up again, and I picked up another pair of planes, this time some fast-moving Mig-31 Foxhounds. I knew I had to beat them on the initial descent. Their engines were too good for me to play catch-up in an Eagle. I rolled and pulled hard back on the stick into a Split-S, and locked up my Slammers and released a volley right at their tails as soon as I leveled. The first Slammer hit home on the trailing plane, but the lead broke to my left and doubled back towards me.

Shit.

I went really low to shake him off through the city skyline. I had to keep full afterburner on to even slow down the rate he was catching me. I leveled off at 200 feet over the river, gunning it for the main bridge that was on the north side of the city. The Belkan was wasn't wasting any time and soon had me in a soft lock, and was forcing me to weave from his cannon fire. About 1000m from the bridge he fired his missile, and I only had one chance at making sure it didn't hit. I raced under the bridge, pulled up as quick as I could and turned back to face him from the dive. I could see the missile coming right for me, so I locked another AMRAAM and let it fly. I ran even low again, going under the missile and him at the same time. I could see the explosion's flash in my rear-view, and I triumphantly pumped my fist.

I looked back towards the city. And then, my heart broke.

The Belkans, in anger over the saturation bombing, were burning everything. Homes, churches, shops, everything. It was all burning, and the blaze made the sky a bloody red. Combat halted for a few moments as everyone, on both sides, realized what was going on. I could only clench my fist in pure rage.

"I can't believe this!" PJ growled, "They can't get away with this!"

"It's war kid, there's no rules. They can burn whatever the hell they want, both sides proved that tonight," Pixy shot back.

"But they can't just get away with it! I'm here trying to stop more bloodshed, not create more!" PJ cried out, sounding like he was almost on verge of tears.

"Kid, you keep those ideas floating around in your head, you'll die real quick. This will eat you alive and spit you out without hesitation!" the Solo Wing pilot shouted in rage.

I remained silent. As I super-cruised over the river, I knew they were both not wrong. But neither was totally right. I didn't have much more time to dwell on it though. My radar had quickly fogged up on me.

"Vixen here, bagged my target, you guys getting the static on your screens, over?"

"Copy Vixen, I'm getting it," I responded as I ran over the radar unit, desperately turning switches to try and get the screen to clear back up.

And then hell proceeded to break loose.

"Calm and Crow Teams, Eagle Eye here! Just before the radar went out, I picked up four hard signatures and one soft signature coming in fast from the north. Keep on your toes and keep the airspace clear for allied forces!" Eagle Eye ordered, breaking his silence from the other channel.

"Alright everyone, get in formation at 25,000! Move your asses! These guys are serious if they got their own jammer plane!" I screamed.

I took lead of the group as we went nose up into a fast climb. We leveled at the target altitude and I picked up four planes coming right at us, same altitude. They were Tomcats. Schnee Squadron.

"Ok, Pixy, you take command of the group. I'm going solo to get that jammer, over," I instructed as I checked my arming lights for my payload of missiles.

"Roger buddy, I'll give 'em hell," Solo Wing responded.

I split off, changing the SASP into disperse and SPW Air mode. I began my search above the fur ball at 40,000 feet, and I caught something moving slowly towards the south another 1,000 feet above my position. It looked like it was a EA-6B, from the round nose it had. I throttled up and went on the hunt, but the Belkan quickly broke and started some evasive maneuvers. I didn't bother with any of the missiles, since I figured he would just jam them or flare them. I laid my finger in ready position on the trigger as I rushed through another high-G turn in pursuit of the jamming craft. I let a burst go, with an immediate jump from Belkan. He turned away hard right and was heading away from me.

"Cipher, you need to down that jammer ASAP! These guys are giving a lot of trouble from long range, we need radar to start making them move, over!" Pixy called as I could hear his missile warning going off like nuts over the comm.

"I'm on it!"

I banked left, and ended up with the Belkan right in front of me. I had to try something else. I climbed again and dove from a 5,000 foot advantage over him, firing a sidewinder his way. Of course he let his flares go, which is exactly what I wanted. As soon as I saw where he jinked, I lined up my cannon on him, checking lead the whole time until the missile passed. I had the perfect shot.

The old cannon growled and flashed brightly off to my right, as the hot tracers formed a nice dotted line right to the Intruder. The old jammer flamed out, and the pilot bailed not long after. The radar was finally cleared, so I returned to attack the Tomcats that were left. Vixen had managed to bag one of them when the radar cleared, using a Slammer to good effect. The rest of them were being overwhelmed easily by the Crow Team and Pixy. Just when it looked like it might be over, Eagle Eye had to come in and rain on our parade.

"Galm 1, I'm picking up what might be hostiles in two groups of four. One is coming from the west, and the other from the east. Signatures seem to indicate stealth fighters."

I've got a bad feeling about this.

And in an instant the remanning F-14's ran with their tails between their legs. We didn't chase. With the eight possible stealths bearing down, we knew it would only hurt us.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Der Rote Teufel himself, and all of his little freunde!" A male Belkan voice called mockingly over the radio. And as he did, I could see dark specs circling over us. "You've been so troublesome for too long. I've been sent from Gründer to finally finish what Bernitz started."

We all just laughed at that. You gotta be kidding me!

"You dare laugh at us?!" the Gründer collaborator jeered, "You'll pay for that!"

I switched SASP to attack and unselected SPW. I wanted to make this personal. But the fact that they had broken the channel that quick, really didn't make me feel any better.

We all pushed hard into the climb and saw immediately what we were up against. Two Raptors, Two Widows and four of the new Lightning IIs. Werner wasn't lying one bit about what was going on. And before the Belkans knew what was going on, the missiles and bullets were heading their way, forming a huge plume that almost looked like a breath of fire from a dragon. The hail managed to strike a Lightning and a Raptor, downing them. I led the team to the altitude ceiling, and forced the Eagle into a high-G stall dive. Coming down, the speedometer was pushing readings over 1,800 mph, with the frame shaking violently the whole time. I managed to focus through it and fire another sidewinder at one of the Lightnings, shooting it down, along with a Widow from some of the other guys's fire.

I hit disperse on the SASP, silently splitting everyone to engage their own targets. I liked the fact the Belkan had shut up since we were taking them all down rather quickly.

"Was? Ist das alles, was Sie?"(What? Is this all you got?) I sneered in my native tongue.

He was silent.

I zeroed in on the last Raptor. I got up close and personal on his rear-end, maybe about 400m away. He was dancing in every which way in front of me, but I remained calm, copying his every move. After a few minutes of this, he obviously got frustrated and pulled into a Pugachev's Cobra. I kept full combat power on as I rushed underneath him. Again, as I had predicted, he had bled so much speed through the maneuver he couldn't even keep up. I just climbed again, and re-engaged him from almost a vertical dive. I decided to use another sidewinder to allow me to close in as much as possible before firing. I released at 1000m and rolled into a Split-S. The sound of an explosion confirmed my kill.

"How we looking Pixy?" I asked as I climbed once more.

"Good buddy, we got the last Lightning. Only this Widow left to play, but he's giving me a hard time."

"Roger, I'm inbound."

I saw Pixy tailing the bogey at my 3 o'clock low, on combat power just over Hoffnung's skyline. I rolled over and pulled hard back to blast underneath the two, then I went into an Immelmann turn to get right into the position I wanted, direct on the Widow's six o'clock. Pixy peeled off to give me the room I needed to contain the Belkan fighter. I decided to ride slightly above him to force him low. To coax him even more, I flashed some cannon fire every few seconds to keep him on edge. I didn't want him to feel comfortable at all.

The Belkan then went low and left, but decided to reverse and attack me head on in retaliation. I switched my ordinance release to full salvo, and launched everything I had left at him. Two Slammers and one sidewinder were in the hunt to bring him down.

"You think you can...!" The Belkan managed to spit out before being engulfed in a ball of fire. The wreck tumbled quietly into the river, and finally the fight was over.

"Alright guys form up at 30, ok?"

A chorus of mic clicks greeted my command, and we all silently got into formation. And as we flew away from one of Belka's old gems, the flames continued to climb and it seemed they were touching the clouds themselves.

"This is such bullshit," Pixy muttered.

No kidding.

-0100 hrs. Valais AFB June 2, 1995-

By the time we had landed back at base, everyone was in a foul mood. We all went to go eat at mess, and everyone was bugging us to see how the mission went.

"How many planes did you get Cipher?" One of the younger crew members asked me as I walked by in the hallway of GHQ.

"Too many."

I left the young man standing there hands on his hips in disappointment. When we arrived at mess, Pixy went off to the Jet Wash, got each of us four bottles of Belkan Shiners, and brought a deck of cards.

Oh boy, this was going to be a sleepless night.

Depressed and intoxicated, we were all pretty willing to throw away some money with Yexan Hold 'Em poker. Buy in was 10 Osean Dollars, and with six players we had a chance to win 60 bucks, but we weren't thinking about winning. We were just desperately trying to get our minds off the sortie. So before we even began we each drank two beers, and were already halfway through our third when Pixy banged the table with his fist to gain our attention.

"Chips are coins alright, you can throw in dollars, but I wouldn't right away," Pixy spoke with a sulk. His shoulders were as low as they could get. But nevertheless, he started the game.

The table went in the order of Pixy, myself, Vixen, PJ, Jericho, and lastly, the ever quiet Crow number two, Fox rounded off the table. Pixy dealed first. So I had to post a small blind of a nickel, and Vixen had to post the big blind of ten cents.

First draw had me with Ace of Hearts and a 9 of hearts. I liked that, and I went ahead and raised ten cents to a 15 cent minimum bet. Vixen and Jericho folded, but Fox called along with Pixy. The flop came out with three cards, King of Diamonds, 7 of Hearts, and a 3 of Hearts. I didn't like that I hadn't made a pair, but the heart flush draw was looking very nice. I went ahead and only raised a nickle. Fox folded, but Pixy seemed adamant to win this hand.

"I'm not letting you get away!" Solo Wing half-heartedly jided, his shoulders raising for only a moment before sagging again.

The flop came with a fourth card, and exactly the one I wanted, Jack of Hearts. I now had the flush, so I needed to see how much money I could drain from him. I raised a quarter, and he not only called my bet, he raised another one. I raised him again by a quarter. And finally, he called.

Then the river card hit the table. Ace of Spades. I had the deal sealed. So I had the opportunity to extract even more money out of him. I flipped the stack of coins I had on the table for a few seconds, acting like I might have a weak hand, leading Pixy to believe I could of bluffed the whole thing. Which made sense because of our raise battle on the flop card.

"I'm all-in," I whispered, shoving all my money to the center of the table.

Pixy woke up from his stupor instantly and was observing me. I went into the best pokerface I could, my eyes blank, and my mouth slightly open. I blinked maybe once every ten seconds. Pixy would have to make this decision without my help. All the while, Vixen in her drunkenness thought my expression was rather funny, and once she had pointed out just how funny she thought it was to the heavily intoxicated Jericho, the Erusean couldn't help but burst out laughing. Pixy looked rather confused though. I'm pretty sure he knew I had the flush draw, but from how long he was taking to decide, I deduced he must of hit it too. He was probably guessing how high my top card is.

"I'm going to look like a genius if I'm right, and an idiot if I'm wrong," Solo Wing sighed as he rested his chin in his hands.

"No shit," I replied breaking out of my calm.

Pixy softly chuckled as he called my ten dollars, and showed a King-high Heart Flush, with the 8 of Hearts his second card.

"Beat that!" He shouted triumphantly.

Then I flipped my cards.

"Just Did."

When his eyes saw the cards, his face went bright red. Vixen, Jericho, and Fox all went 'Ohhhh!' in response to my smack down. They couldn't believe how close that hand was.

"Crap!" Pixy shouted as his head banged into the table.

I pulled all the money over into my pile and I had an unshakeable grin on my face. Pixy got up and came over to me, with his flight jacket hanging on his finger.

"Good hand buddy, you mind come talking for a bit?" Solo Wing asked as he slapped me on the back.

"Sure. Vixen you can have my money, just don't lose it you hear?" I said as I got up and pushed in my chair.

"Ah Cipher, you never trust me!" she called, her voice wavering heavily, "Don't worry!"

I waved her off as I followed Pixy back outside into the twilight. Despite all the chaos, the cosmos were really putting on a show tonight.

"I just wanted to tell you buddy," the grizzled pilot began as we walked to the team hangar, "That, I'm from Hoffnung."

Oh god no.

"You mean..."

"Yeah."

Well that's not good. Just when I thought I had convinced Pixy out of doing anything stupid, this had to come in and ruin it.

"What part of town did you live at?" I asked.

"Right on the west bank of the river. I had an apartment there," Pixy answered as we arrived at our birds.

"I'm sorry pal. I just didn't expect them to go this apeshit," I said as I took a look over my bird, "Well, maybe I did."

"I'm telling you buddy, we got to get out of here if any of us want to change anything."

Oh and now he was going to use this to try and pull me along with him!

"FOR THE LAST TIME PIXY, ENOUGH!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!"

He seem repulsed. I don't think this time he expected me to reject it.

"I can't turn my back on everyone, after all I've done. I've made my choice, Pixy. I'm going to see it through," I firmly asserted as I climbed up the ladder to the open cockpit of my Eagle.

I could hear Pixy sigh as he flopped into his Eagle's saddle. "You know buddy, we can fight Gründer a lot better if we do this. We split off, we can take the fight to them!"

"No Pixy, that's what they probably expect me to do. Besides, who is your little freedom-fighter army going to get supplies from, hmm?"

He was silent.

"Gründer that's who! No matter where you go pal," I continued, "They're gonna play you. It's that simple."

Pixy looked over to me and nodded.

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

I turned my attention back to the stars and gazed back into that sky that had given and taken so much. It had been the great equalizer in my life, giving me great gifts, and heartbreaks at the same time. I just hoped I could prevent another.

But I couldn't.


	18. Chapter 18: Severing Ties

Ch. 18 Severing Ties

_They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for. Cab-Angel With a Shotgun_

* * *

_-_June 6, 1995 Valais AFB 0505hrs.-

I awoke that morning to the sound of a certain someone or something banging hard on my door. Turns out that someone was Vixen.

"Come on Erich! Just got word we have a briefing in 20 minutes, hurry up!"

I glanced over at Moritz, who was over rolling restlessly in his doggie bed, desperately trying to block out the noise. I didn't blame him. I got up and carefully placed my flight jacket on my shoulders. I threw my crusher cap on my head, and grabbed my walking cane. Moritz quickly bounded up as soon as I had opened the door, rushing to catch up to Vixen.

We hit the briefing room a couple minutes later, with everyone else scrambling in as well, just as disheveled. The were some bedheads on prominent display this morning, particularly Pixy's. His hair was standing up on its volition on the sides, giving him a rather unusual look.

"You sleep in the Eagle last night, Pixy?" I snickered.

"Uh…I think…well…I think so?"Solo Wing stammered much to the amusement of everyone else.

"At least he isn't dead," PJ added.

We chuckled at that, and Perrault finally made his entrance. We made the customary attention and salute, to which he quickly returned. We were seated and the target that I had wanted to see for two years popped up on the screen. Sudentor. Gründer's seat of power and headquarters.

"Well it seems your talk with the President worked, Colonel."

I had a big smile on my face. Finally! Something was actually going our way for once.

"The President has given his direct orders to attack the Gründer Industries Factory and HQ in Sudentor, in response to the debacle at Hoffnung. With both sides' civilian populaces enraged at the acts of their respective forces, the President believed it was time to finally punish the higher ups in this war by attacking them directly," Perrault stated in a firm, but positive tone. He actually seemed happy about this attack. He hadn't been like that since we lost Tiger.

Another screen came to view, detailing the topography and targets we would be attacking.

"After meeting at P-203 for the rendezvous, Crow will again assume ground attack responsibilities, Jericho, you'll need to take Crow Team and engage the AA installations and the airfield. We need to make sure they can't get their new birds airborne. If we do that, it'll make the army's job a lot easier," Perrault continued.

"Affirmative sir. We'll finally get them bloomin' bastards. I want some bloody payback!" Crow's lead crowed. We all for sure felt the same way.

"Cipher, you'll be leading the air superiority mission. Down any and all combat aircraft operating in the target airspace. One that's achieved we want you to cause as much trouble as you possibly can, we want these sons a' bitches to feel the hurt," Perrault instructed, "I think you can give them some rightful retribution after all you've gone through with them."

"Yes sir!" I yelled back, "I'll whip up a damn hurricane for you!"

He smiled at that. That's what I said when I was a lot cockier and less experienced. The old General knew that I could do that, and a whole lot more.

"That's all then, good luck and stay safe."

We snapped to attention once more, and the grizzled general left the room. After that, we got our gear together, and hung in the mess hall to eat a light breakfast. We could have a real meal once we got back.

"I'm glad we can finally bring the fight to them for once," I said as I ate a big spoonful of oatmeal.

"Me too," Vixen replied quietly, but unlike everyone else, she looked even more pale. She was barely picking at her food, and she had her hands pressing hard into her chin.

Ah, shit! How could I be so stupid!

"Vixen, you mind tagging along for a sec?" I asked.

She perked up at the sound of that, and she happily took my hand as we walked outside with the ever-energetic Moritz rushing away in front of us. She looked better, but I could tell it was bugging her, big time.

Say something, you idiot!

"You afraid of something happening to your Dad?" I asked nonchalantly, desperately trying to make sure I didn't hurt her feelings.

"Who wouldn't?" she calmly retorted.

Oh, thank god. You really do exist.

"But I mean," I continued with a sigh, "Is there anything I can do?"

Vixen quickly wheeled around in front of me and planted a kiss on my lips.

Well, I guess that was unexpected, to say the least.

"Just stay with me," Vixen whispered, "That's all I need."

I smiled back at her. I can do that, ten-fold. We locked hands even tighter, and now she looked back to her old self, her blue eyes as bright as the clear skies above us. She seemed at peace, and I couldn't at that moment have felt any happier. It was her who had helped me here. I felt it was time I start repaying the debt.

We reached the jets, and I helped her up into the Widow, still painted that same old red I had done only a month ago.

"You mind staying until the others get here?" Vixen asked, much more confidently.

"Of course."

We sat there admiring the sunrise over the mountains, the reflection of the snow on the peaks shining right along with it. The jagged mountains for once didn't look intimidating. They felt like…..home. This was my home, and for the first time, I finally felt a peace that I hadn't felt in the two years I had spent in the Air Corps. Vixen had finally given it to me, after all the suffering.

With the appearance of the rest of airborne posse, I climbed down from the Widow, giving a parting wave to Vixen. She returned it, as she performed final checks and sealed the canopy shut.

"How's she doing Lothar?" I asked the young, grizzled maintenance chief.

"Oh, just as good as flying through god knows how many hailstorms of cannon fire can get you," he snidely remarked as I climbed in.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence you asshole," I shot back.

"But I'm your asshole!" he shouted as I turned the Eagle's turbines on.

"Ain't that the truth," I shouted back at him.

Lothar just laughed and waved me on. I sealed myself inside my glass tube, and put the Eagle onto the hangar line, leading the formation of war birds to the runway.

"Tower, Galm and Crow Teams are requesting takeoff, over," I radioed.

"Roger Galm 1, all aircraft are cleared for takeoff, good luck up there, over."

I responded with a full-blast of my afterburner, rocketing my plane down in the runway and into the air within a few seconds. After another five minutes, we were in formation heading north towards Sudentor. I thought then I was finally a step ahead.

Too bad I was two behind.

-Airspace over Waldreich Mountains, 0845-

The high cloud cover had increased slightly as we journeyed further into Belkan territory. But surprisingly, there was no resistance at all. We even passed over the famous castle on the way. PJ took some pictures to take back to his girlfriend, with the inevitable teasing coming in hot and fast.

"You know PJ, you should just do it already," Fox remarked as we increased our speed slightly.

"I'll do it when the time is right, it's just not now. Especially with all this, I don't want to worry her even more,"the young man replied. He sounded really mature for being rather inexperienced.

"Good call, PJ," I told him.

"Thanks Cipher, that means a lot coming from you,"he beamed back.

"Shit kid, you're the first to say that!" I cried.

Everyone had a nice laugh at that, but then Eagle Eye had to come in and ruin it.

"Galm Team and Crow Team, emergency transmission from HQ, 'Belkan bombers are being tracked on course for Ustian Territory, believed to have nuclear, I repeat, believed to have nuclear weapons, mission priority is diverted to those bombers'. I don't think I need to tell you, shoot 'em all down! They are directly ahead of you by a couple of miles, don't let any escape!" Eagle Eye belted.

I could Vixen sigh slightly in relief, but it was replaced by anger.

"Why the hell do they have have to do this! They think this will stop the Oseans?! What a load of crap!" She shouted angrily at the Belkans.

We were in silence, but I noticed that Pixy was out of formation, way back behind us.

"Galm 2, this is Crow 3, you're lagging behind. Is your plane ok?" PJ called to Solo Wing.

"Yeah I'm fine, just a little sad, that's all," the normally calm pilot sulked.

"Get up here Pixy, we got some serious shit happening!" I ordered.

"Roger, I'm coming."

I gripped the flight stick hard. This was a do-or-die moment. If I failed here, Ustio would be scorched forever, wrapped in nuclear fire and destruction. I wasn't going to let it happen on my watch.

Sure enough, the bombers were dead-on in front of us, below by a few thousand feet. Crow Team jettisoned their fuel pods and ground munitions, as we lightened the load by dropping our external tanks. Now lightened and ready, we dove in on the attack. There were about nine or so BM-335s in front of us with heavy fighter escort, namely some SU-27 Flankers.

We began our dive, I gave the Disperse command as soon as we entered effective range. I decided to engage the lead bomber of the formation, launching two Slammers towards it. The first managed to hit the fuselage, while the second struck the tail, rendering the Belkan bomber uncontrollable as it spiraled towards the ground. I continued pushing down through the formation, pulling hard back up to get right behind the 335s and back into action. I latched onto the rear of the bomber on the far left side of the formation, launching a sidewinder and sending a barrage of cannon fire towards it. The sidewinder took a huge chunk out of the rear of the bomber, while the cannon fire pierced the armor on three on engines flaming them out. The bomber was forced into a crash dive, trailing smoke and flames, but I took no time in watching the debris fall, continuing my attack with haste.

Some weird radar signatures did come up behind us, but they weren't firing on us, so I just ignored them. Vixen was busy engaging the fighter escorts right above me, and Pixy was nipping away at the rest of bombers. However, the remaining the radar signatures came into view all around me. Four Belkan Mig-31 Foxhounds. They were all around me, and all they did was rock their wings and continue on, attacking the bombers in front of me.

At least someone back home has some honor!

"We got some of our Belkan brothers joining the fight!" I called as I continued my attack on another bomber. There were only two left now.

But a Flanker decided I was having too easy a time, giving me a radar spike right as I was lining up on a bomber.

Now that you got my attention, It's on!

I turned around hard to face him, and he quickly broke off his attack run, diving low under the formation. I kept the pursuit, but two more got onto my tail.

Shit.

But in a few seconds, the two Flankers behind me were engulfed in flames by missile strikes. It only could be one of two people.

"Figured I'd pay back your kindness, Cipher," Vixen buzzed in.

"Glad you did!" I called back to her.

"Go get him, we got this covered. Thanks to our blood brothers."

I could only smile as I continued my hunt of the Belkan Flanker. I gave the engines even more juice as I closed the gap. The Flanker was trying to pull all of these moves he could, but nothing would shake me off his tail. He was only delaying the inevitable. I launched a Slammer, and he jumped early. My missile tracked straight and true, sending the Belkan down.

"All bombers and escorts destroyed!" Eagle Eye cheered, "Good work everyone!"

I felt a huge wave of relief. But that wave, was replaced by another.

All of a sudden, everything just started to shake, and the sky back where we came from was engulfed in a extremely bright flash.

NO!

The Belkans, in all their haste, had done the unthinkable. They detonated seven nuclear warheads over the Waldreich mountains. They had scorched their own earth, killed their own people, and defiled their country to delay the end. It was disgusting how willing governments were to just gamble with the lives of their people.

But I had my own problems to worry about.

My Eagle had been hit by the shockwave of the blast, falling into a flat-spin. This was bad. A flat-spin was really hard to recover from. And it was mainly down to chance if I was able to recover from it. Luckily I had been at a relatively high altitude, so the amount of time I had was a lot bigger.

But the screams coming from my radio…. I'll never forget that. Jericho and Fox went down with their planes, unable to eject. They rode their million dollar rockets to the ground. The Belkans that were with us went down to. I don't think they ejected either.

I had to live, damn it!

The only thing I could do was the instructions I had learned in training. PARE. Put the power in idle, hands off the stick, counter the spin with opposite rudder, and elevator through neutral. Once I had performed the steps, the Eagle recovered quickly and I was back in business.

"Vixen, you up?!" I cried worriedly.

"Yeah, just barely. You hit a flat spin too?" Vixen asked as she took her position off my right wing.

"Yeah, I just PARE'd out of it."

"I guess that's the one part of training I'm glad I remembered."

"Pixy, you ok out there?" I called over the comm.

"Yeah, just broke my flat spin I'll be there in a minute, buddy."

"Copy."

Glad he got through.

"PJ, how you doing kid?" I asked.

"Alright, I guess. Can't believe we lost them both, Cipher," the young pilot said barely holding back the tears.

"Kid go ahead and head back. You've had enough for today."

"Thanks Cipher. Crow 3 is ex-filling."

PJ's F-16 passed me in a blur on full-burn, and so, I turned my attention back to matters at hand. Where was Pixy?

But I got my answer soon enough.

"Larry, can you read me? Your fairy godmother's here, Cinderella," the unmistakable Wizard 1 called.

"How can you say that after what just happened?!" Solo Wing shouted angrily back at him.

Please Pixy! Remember what we talked about!

"Today is your luck day, Larry. Like your birthday," the snake temptingly called.

"And you're here to pull me off in a magical carriage… To Hell, I suppose…" Solo Wing muttered.

"Pixy, if you stand for anything, Don't do this!" I shouted back, "We know what the truth is!"

And then….he did it.

"Buddy…. I've found a reason to fight."

My missile alert started to rage incessantly at me. Pixy had turned on me.

"Blue on blue! Galm 2 disengage immediately!" Eagle Eye raged in desperation.

…

I remained in silence as my friend attacked me. I avoided all of his attacks to the best of my abilities, even though a few cannon rounds did strike me. Vixen was in a fight of her own, engaging inbound Belkan F-15s, and the newer E models at that as well.

"Cipher, you hear me?!" I could hear her yell from what seemed like a mile away, "Hang in there!"

But I had settled into a trance, in total shock that he had betrayed me, after all the fighting we had been through in the past few months, all of it apparently meant nothing to him. He, in his naive way, thought this was the answer. But I remember what Andrianov told me the first time we flew as a squadron.

'Those who abandon their friends are worse than trash.'

And Pixy had just turned into trash right in front of my eyes. My soul was torn.

I was no longer flying consciously, it was all sub-conscious. I just made the moves without even thinking, shaking his fire. Eventually though, he bugged out, leaving me and Vixen alone to tangle with the fighters.

I targeted a Belkan Eagle direct at my twelve o'clock with a Slammer, and I rolled hard under him to dodge his missile, but in his rush to shoot down the legendary Demon, the Demon had shot him down. I twisted again, chasing down a second Eagle. I fired a sidewinder at close range, shattering it like glass.

"Galm Team, all targets have been destroyed," our AWACS called out, "RTB immediately."

"Roger."

I took my helmet off, and put the plane onto autopilot for the trip back home. I slumped back into the ejection seat, and just stared up at the scorched sky. I just couldn't believe it. But now I had to promise to keep.

I was going to find him. And when I did, I would kill him.

* * *

-1500hrs. Values AFB June 6, 1995-

"I don't think this day could of been any worse,"PJ moaned.

We were now at the smallest amount of pilots we had ever had the entire war. Three. That was all that was left. Vixen and I were the only remaining original members. I was the only remaining member of Galm, Vixen was the only remaining member of the Halo Team, and PJ was the last one from Crow left alive.

We had just picked at our 'earned' lunch of the typical foodstuffs. Our minds were too crowded with other thoughts. Eating was the least of our worries as of now.

"Hey PJ, you wanna hear a story?" I asked.

"Sure, I guess," PJ replied with a sigh.

"Which one are you telling? Is it the one I think it is?" Vixen inquired with a small grin.

"Yeah it's the live fire one."

"That's a good one PJ, you'll like this," Vixen smirked, brushing her hair out of face.

* * *

-August 1, 1993 Ploesti HQ Blackrock AFB Usea 1100hrs.-

It had now been a year and a few added months since I joined the Ploesti Mercenary Air Corps. I had made it through the hell of basic, now half way through my advanced training at the Blackrock base. But it was a different kind of hell now, possibly worse. Myself, Vixen, Buzzard, Lobo, Rainman, and Zero, were all paired together to be trained by the 'Skyboss' of Ploesti, Viktor 'Boss' Andrianov, arguably one of the best living fighter pilots at the time. During several of the proxy wars waged by Yuktobania, he had amassed over 50 confirmed kills, rivaling many of the Belkan pilots at the time, even Kellerman.

The 'Skyboss' moniker was given to the pilot that was best of the best in Ploesti, the pilot who received it had to earn it in a dogfighting tournament that was held every year on New Year's Day. The winner of the tournament became the company's top ranked pilot, receiving the best missions and the best pay. Everyone wanted to be the Skyboss, but Andrianov was not one to just give up his title. At the time, he was the longest serving Skyboss the company had ever had, winning 15 consecutive tournaments going back to 1978.

When we had first met him, he was intimidating, standing much taller than any of us did. His hair was trimmed perfectly in accordance with the regs, but it was a pale white, which surprised me. After a while though, we learned his harshness was grounded in truth. He had experienced a lot of different things in the proxy wars, but the one thing he hated more than anything else, were the pilots that were desperate to gain glory over keeping their friends safe. The very first day of dogfighting we did he told us that line, 'Those who abandon their friends are worse than trash.'

And on this day, he was going to push us to the absolute limit, to see if we would uphold that line.

The usual training started without any abnormal complications. We got up checked the planes, and did basic maneuvering for around two hours, then touched down for breakfast, after breakfast we would usually pair up with our normally assigned team member, but that day Andrianov had other plans.

We were all sitting together at a table in the rather small mess hall, when Andrianov barged in.

"Everyone except Cipher and Vixen have the day off."

Both of us simultaneously banged our heads into the table, while everyone else just laughed.

"Oh come on Erich, it can't be that bad can it?"

"Shut up," I quickly snapped.

"Come on you two, we don't have time to screw around. Get your planes ready."

"Yes sir!" We both responded as we sprinted past him out to our T-38's. The T-38 was essentially a two-seater F-5. It actually handled pretty well considering the age of the airframe. I hopped in and belted myself in. i spun up the little turbojets, and began my pre-flight surface checks. All the while, Andrianov was taxi-ing in front of us in his Mig-21 Fishbed.

"You two are clear to move as soon as you're ready, Cipher you'll take lead cadet position, ok?"

"Yes, sir!" I confidently called back. At least that meant he couldn't berate Vixen. He seemed to have it out for everyone, especially me. But, I preferred to take the flak, since I actually had trained on aircraft before and knew the right things to say.

"I'm ready Cipher," Vixen checked in on the radio.

"Copy, I'll take lead."

I took my position behind Boss, out of his jet-wash at the end of runway. He gave the old Mig full-burn to get up to the sky, breaking left as soon as he had the speed to.

I lined up next, and readied myself on the throttle control.

"Tower, Volk 2 is requesting permission for takeoff over."

"Roger Volk 2, you are clear for immediate takeoff on runway 14."

I gave the little jet all she had, engaging my afterburners, jolting it forward into high speed. After I had hit 170 mph, I gently pulled back on the stick, lifting the Talon into flight. I broke hard left to join formation with Boss.

After Vixen had taken off and joined us in our V formation, and Boss finally relayed the orders of the day.

"Now as you may have noticed, we've equipped your planes with load-outs similar to what you'll actually carry out there. You both have sidewinders, and AMRAAMS, or Slammers as we call them. Orders are to do whatever you can to shoot me down, but remember, don't abandon your wingmen. They'll save your life in a fight like this."

Ok so another simulation. Fine by me.

"Oh and I almost forgot. This is live ammo. I'll be shooting at you. Cannons are banned, only missiles. You will actually have to try and shoot me down. I will bail out when I think you have a good shot. Good luck."

WHAT!

Boss immediately broke formation by pulling into a slow, tight loop. Within seconds he was on our tails.

"Vixen break high, I'll go low!"

"Roger!"

It was a good thing we did, since he launched two of his missiles towards us, and our smart maneuvering guaranteed our escape.

"Not bad," the Yuktobanian stated as we started our own attack, "But can you do it yourselves?"

Boss climbed with his Mig to the safety of the heavy cloud cover, we were stumbling in the dark, climbing and diving, searching for him.

"I'm no joy Vixen," I sighed.

"Me too. The bastard's probably gonna come down on us from out of nowhere."

And right on cue, he came screaming down out of the clouds. But we were going to try something different.

"Pull the Thach!"

With Boss dead center behind me, Vixen and I crossed paths in front of each other, leading Boss right into the trap. As we pulled through it a second time, Vixen now had a clear view on Boss's tail.

"Fox 2!" I heard over the radio.

I could see the sidewinder snaking towards his plane, but he waited and rolled low under it in a Split-S.

"Damn it!" I shouted, "I thought we had him."

"That was good Cipher," Boss called from his hiding place, "But you'll have to do better than that if you really want to survive."

We both dove into Split-S's of our own, and resumed our attack. I spiked him with a Slammer, and got an easy lock.

"Fox 3!"

I launched two missiles towards the Fished. But again, he anticipated the attack, and turned around to face us, launching two more missiles of his own.

I broke off again, grunting hard into a climb, but in my haste, he had latched on to Vixen's tail.

"Shit, Cipher, he's on me!"

"I'm coming!"

I reversed and dove again, coming down almost vertical. I was betting on diving right between the pair of them at high speed, trying to divert Boss's attention. I performed the trick well, with only a 500 foot gap to work with. Boss took the bait and that allowed for Vixen to once more launch an attack.

"Fox 3, Fox 3!"

She launched two of her Talon's Slammers, and finally we had him good. Although he dodged them, much to our annoyance, he was much more restricted than before.

"Thach, again!"

We pulled into the pass again, but pulled a new trick by switching positions, giving me the chase position on Boss while Vixen took the bait position. I had him locked with a sidewinder, and I continued to close in. Once I was three-hundred feet out, I armed.

"Boss, you better bail out if you want to live," I coldly spoke to my commander.

As soon as I launched it, he was up and out. The Mig, took the missile in an instant, erupting into an inferno, and crashing spectacularly into the fields below.

"Volk 2, you are ordered to land immediately over."

"Roger tower, we're coming in."

We landed as quick as we could, and Boss was already there waiting for us.

"You two have been coming along. Good work."

"Thank you sir," I responded as we both saluted him.

"You now know the true value of teamwork, when you have two birds working together, even a mediocre pair can beat a strong pilot."

Vixen and I gave him a stink eye, and the Yuktobanian just chuckled.

"Not like you two are mediocre! You'll knock me out of Skyboss before too long!"

That was the first real compliment I had heard from his mouth this whole time. I felt honored that this man believed I could actually do something. I wasn't burdened by my father's legacy. I could build my own.

* * *

—June 6, 1995 1600 hrs.—

"Geez Cipher, you make it out like you and Vixen are some flying gods!" PJ replied, much improved from his moping.

"You gotta start somewhere, it just happened we had a good teacher, kid," I confided in the young pilot, "With a little help, you'll be just as good as me!"

We all cheered up, and Moritz came rushing in from outside, giving us something to divert our worries.

Although there had been chaos, we had found peace. For a little while at least.


	19. Chapter 19: Tears of Blood

_"It is not necessary for Eagles to be Crows."-Sitting Bull, Sioux Chief._

* * *

Ch.19 Tears of Blood

-?-

When I fell asleep that night, I discovered what a true nightmare is. The flow of time wasn't a singular, steady stream, but a tidal monstrosity, flowing back and forth, rushing over and around, trickling in some places and overflowing in others. Flashbacks of pain lingered for what seemed ages, images of horror replayed endlessly.

And then the silence.

When my most repressed memories finally stopped resurfacing, the terror they induced finally coming to a close, I learned what silence truly meant. It was better when there was pain, when there was feeling. Now, there was nothing but endless whiteness. I couldn't feel anything, not even air passing over my body. Hell, I couldn't even feel my body. The silence was suffocating, even the sound of life was absent. It could've been ages, but just as plausibly, seconds, before out of the nothingness, a stark, contrasting black surface appeared. It was round and came to my waist, a table, yet there were no legs to support it. Then, just as suddenly as the table had appeared, a chair, just as abyssal and black as the table, came into existence, missing its supporting structures as well.

Instead of questioning these new objects, I began to use them. I sat down upon the chair and was suddenly joined by people. People who also began to sit at the black table with me. Familiarity struck me as I gazed at the faces of those gathered, but none stuck me greater than the man who sat directly across from me. My Father. As my shock wore off, I noticed he was more youthful than I ever remembered him. He wore his old Belkan uniform, in fact, everyone was wearing a Belkan uniform of some type. I even saw garbs dating back to feudal Belka. Before I could think about these discoveries though, the oppressing silence was lifted, broken by someone who was strikingly similar to my father, but wore clothes older than him, clothes from the flight of the first war birds back in the first Osean War.

"Erich von Falkenberg, please rise."

I suddenly felt myself being lifted, and gave no resistance to the force. I hoped this was perhaps the way out of this... dream.

"You sit before the table of your ancestors, dating back to the beginning of Belka. I myself, Friedrich von Falkenberg, am your grandfather," the man's voice echoed in the void.

That would make sense as to why my father changed his name.

"At this time, we are here to judge your actions in your generations war, and decide whether or not to return you back to the Land of the Living. Our ruler in this domain has made it so," Friedrich spoke, his voice almost quavering.

What? Land of the Living? I'm... No! I'm not dead! Am I? I just went to sleep!

"We will allow you to speak on your own behalf, so that fair judgment can be rendered," another one of the men at the table spoke up, dressed in the ancient garb of the Belkan Knights. "So says I, Rheinmann, the father of united Belka."

This can't be real. Shock was forcing my eyes to become dry as they continued to bulge at the man who had just spoken. They're here to judge?! What kind of sick game is this?!

"It's no game," Friedrich retorted.

Oh, and they can read my mind. Wonderful. Guess now's the time to say something.

"When I was born, I didn't even have the true name of my blood. My father had run away from it. I still really don't know why he did," I stated as I stared at my father, or, whatever looked like my dad. "He told me not to take this path in life. But, perhaps, as destiny instructed, I walked it regardless. All of his warnings came to bear at the forefront of my mind. I thought I could escape the reality." I took a large breath before finishing my thought. "I could not."

My eyes began to water as I looked back to my dad, similar tears coming into his eyes as well.

"I'm sorry I doubted your council father. But then again, I would not be standing before you if I had not made that choice. All of the friends I made along the way, and finally finding someone..." I paused, collecting my emotions. "Someone I….love." The table had been quiet with respect before the statement, but with it now said, the reverence only grew. "I don't regret my choices. I have a family to go back to, even if so much of it is sitting around me here. I wish I could have met all of you under better circumstances. You all were honorable men who fought for their country, and deserved so much better for it. War seems to be a great uniter and divider. Men become friends, comrades, and brothers through its trying crucible. But sadly, we lose many of them in that great inferno. There always will be that risk."

I leaned forward, placing my hands firmly on the table, my eyes racing to my grandfather.

"You know just as well as I do, I deserve to live. I'm the only one who can save Belka from the monsters that are coming to devour it. The Oseans, Yuktobanians, and every other country surrounding us, they are going to defile the corpse of _our_ Land once it dies. I will defend_ my_ fatherland to my dying breath, I will not let some other country's playboys destroy _my_ home! I will not let radical separatists hold a reign of terror over Belka!" I shouted with righteous fire, eliciting some of the gathered members to slam a clenched fist upon the black surface they were seated around. "I will end it all. I'm the only who can. I started the story. I have to end it." I said, slowly coming off a burning high.

The space fell into a paralyzing silence again. The men all looked to each other for a moment, most with a fire in their eyes that I knew hadn't been there before. Finally, every last one of them cast a glance to to my grandfather.

"It seems, Erich," my grandfather replied, "You have learned the lessons you needed to from conflict. You are so devoted to the peace and well-being of our people…. I have not seen such a passionate fire spread so quickly to others in a long time. Perhaps you are the next Rheinmann…to unite Belka together in a bond of peace. You are right in believing there is something for you to go back to. You have the potential to start a family that…even I did not have a chance to enjoy long enough." My grandfather then turned to the others gathered at the table. "Gentlemen?"

The men all looked to him and nodded reverently. My father was silently bawling.

"Then it is decided, Erich von Falkenberg, by the decree of your blood, and by the decree of God, thou art in heaven, you are deemed worthy to return to the journey of life."

"Excuse me," I jutted in, not wanting to wait a moment longer. "May I have a word with my father before I leave?"

"Of course, that is but a small favor to ask for," he replied sagely with a knowing smile.

I ran around the table, my arms outstretched, grasping for the man I had never had the chance to say goodbye to. I latched onto him and let out my tears.

"I'm sorry father! It was all my fault!" I sobbed, burying my head into his shoulder.

He just silently patted my head as he did the other mens' spirits dissipated, my grandfather remaining with the two of us.

"You were right Manfred, this son of yours is truly remarkable," the elder Falkenberg chirped.

"I raised him right, like you did with me while you were alive," my father whispered, finally breaking his silence.

I looked back into my father's eyes. I just couldn't believe it. I thought I would never see this again, the reassuring gaze that had carried me through my childhood.

"Son, I can not be more proud of you than I am right now," my father continued, "You have become a better man than I could have hoped for."

The words I had needed to hear at last made me whole.

"You are forgiven, my son! You are not at fault for my death. You were helping the defenseless against the tyrannical elements of our fatherland. I would take that death a thousand times more, because it _meant_ something; standing against the evil that plagued my own war."

I…..words can't…

"But now it's time for you to go home, to your new family…." my father said as he let go of me, fading from sight back into the void from which he came.

"DAD!" I screamed, desperately trying to hold onto the fragments of his spirit.

I turned to see my grandfather beginning to fade away as well, with a cheerful smile on his face. He said the last words I could recall from that…experience.

"Glück Auf."

Good Luck.

Then everything began to shake, as a loud roar pierced my ears drums, and I collapsed onto the floor in a heap. I closed my eyes as hard as I could, screaming at the top of my lungs in fear. And then, in an instant, it was over. It was quiet.

-…-

I could hear myself breathing. The sound of something that sounded like a heart monitor.

Thank God.

I opened my eyes. I was back. I wasn't in my room, however. I was in a hospital bed, completely covered up by the sheets, an oxygen mask attached to my face.

I tried to turn my head to the right to look out a window, but It was a great struggle to do so. I managed to peer out the glass, and to my horror, I saw thick snow covering the ground outside.

Snow….That means….

A nurse came in to check on whatever fluids they were pumping into me. I looked back towards her as fast as my sore muscles would allow, and her face grew pale as I continued to gaze at her, blinking intermittently from the blurriness that was obstructing my view.

"Doctor!" I heard her shout as she ran out of the room, "He's awake!"

I didn't bother to move. My questions would be answered soon enough.

I heard footsteps smashing down the hospital's halls, and in came the person I wanted to see so badly. Vixen. She looked just as beautiful as I had left her. I began to cry, and she could barely contain herself as well. She ran over to me and gave me a soft hug.

"I missed you," she whispered into my ear.

"Me…..too," I managed to squeak out.

"I can't believe it!" the unmistakable voice of PJ rang out. He came over to my side with a big old grin on his face, "Glad to have you back sir."

I nodded slowly in reply.

Doctor Richter came in and seemed rather pleased as well.

"Back from the dead it seems, Völler," the doctor said as he began checking me over.

"What…happened?…went to sleep…after Waldreich…now…here…" I struggled to get out. My throat felt like it was on fire whenever I tried to say something.

The doctor seemed rather perturbed at my statement, but he motioned for me to be silent.

Vixen grabbed a chair and came over to my left side and sat down.

"It's been six months, Erich. It's the middle of November. You were in a coma," she stated bluntly, staring down into the floor as if it were a teleprompter.

Shit.

"What….happened…me?…" I squeaked again.

"The day the war ended, your plane exploded on landing. We think it was a bomb. You were trapped in the blaze for two minutes before the crews could get you out. Your lungs and head were especially damaged, but the flight suit managed to protect the rest of your body. They took you in for surgery and put you in an induced coma. They managed to get all the shrapnel out within a week. Once they took you off the drugs for the induced coma, however, you didn't wake up."

I winced at that. What the hell happened?

"After that," she continued, "to everyone's surprise, the Belkan Principality government agreed to pay for all of your medical treatment, and to keep you on life support. You were also the first recipient of the newly reinstated Pour le Mérite, for helping 'bring back the rightful government of the fatherland'."

I tried to smile at that. The medal of my grandfather….It was now mine.

"And so you're here," she sighed, half in contentment and half in... something else. "I guess the incident wiped your memory of the missions right before the war ended. They were just mop-up jobs. Cleaning up remnants before the surrender."

Richter finished his examination, and looked to me.

"Do you want to see what you look like now?"

I gazed down at the covers, and nodded.

"Alright, just be warned, it may be a bit of a shock."

He held a mirror in front of my face, and while shocking, I didn't scream.

I didn't have the strength to.

My hair had been singed, and what grew back was no longer the characteristic blond, but a stark gray. My face was covered in cuts and scratches. There were red streaks under my eyes. I looked like a freak, a monster. I closed my eyes and turned away from the mirror.

Everyone took that as their cue to leave, except Vixen. She stayed in her chair next to me.

"I know it looks bad Erich," she muttered.

"No...kidding...I'm...monster..." I tried to jab back.

"You are not!" she yelled back defiantly.

It startled me to say the least.

"You are alive! Aren't you thankful for that?!" she shouted angrily.

"I...had a dream..." my voice grew in strength, "I don't...know if it...was real."

"What was it?" she asked.

"I was surrounded...by my forefathers...in judgment from God...to decide if I could live again. My father...my grandfather...even Rheinmann...was there. They agreed to let me go back."

She began to tear up again, and we embraced again.

"I'm glad they decided to let you come back to me," she said softly into my ear.

"That...was my... biggest reason." I stated with a growing smirk.

-Two weeks later, November 29, 1995 1700hrs.-

In my 'absence', Valais had morphed into something else. It was now an air base truly worthy of taking on the burden rebuilding the Ustian Air Force. The Ustian Air Fleet had been obliterated in the Belkan blitzkreig earlier in the year, so with lasting peace declared, the Ustians were quick to jump to rebuilding their Air Force. Flight training was now taking place on this now famous base, brimming with young men and women, hoping to perhaps capture the same glory I had in the future. I knew they never could, for one big reason.

To my disappointment, the famed Belkan Luftwaffe had been completely disbanded and outlawed. I had hoped that, perhaps, I might be able to transfer to the illustrious branch. Maybe there was some explanation for it all.

As for myself, I was out of bed, but severely limited in the mobility department. I was confined to a wheelchair, much to my annoyance. Vixen was enjoying every second she could baby me. I was at her disposal for the first time in a while, and she was damn well going to take advantage of it. Most of the time, just to annoy me even more, Vixen would wheel me into the recruits' barracks, just for kicks. I would get swarmed within seconds, with constant requests for autographs and war stories.

After a while, I grew to enjoy this time talking with them. A lot of these kids were from underprivileged backgrounds, and the air force helped them take a step up in life. It really touched me, and I made it my new mission to assist them in any way I could. Even if it was through advice, teaching, or just a quiet chat. Eventually, I was affectionately dubbed by the recruits as 'Der Vater Adler', The Father Eagle. I wore that name with pride. I liked it more than the 'Der Rote Teufel' nickname that I had earned through killing. This name...it just meant so much more to me.

My daily schedule was therapy in the morning, hanging out with the recruits at midday, and the rest of the day was spent with Lothar at the team hangar, with Vixen tagging along the whole way.

This particular afternoon, I was in the hangar staring at the wreckage of my old Eagle. She had taken the brunt of the explosion, the whole fuselage was shredded and warped every which way. The only thing that seemed in place was the cockpit. It somehow kept shape, and because of that, I was still alive.

"A damn shame," I could hear Lothar say from his workbench behind me, "Isn't it?"

"It's a even bigger shame I can't remember the last moments I was flying it," I replied glumly.

The mechanic chuckled, "No kidding. So, how were the kids today?"

"Better. They seem to learn a lot from every little thing I say to them. It's almost like my word is the Gospel or something!" I said with disbelief, "I just can't believe I'm now where my father was, fame-wise."

"You earned it Erich. You have the Blue Max for Christ's sake! No pilot has won that medal for 80 or so years! Of course you're famous! Those kids will hang on to every word you say like it came from God's mouth, perhaps you'll have some time to write your own gospel soon."

I sat in silence for a few more minutes before Vixen came back carrying dinner for me and Lothar from mess.

"Food's here boys!" I could hear her yell from behind me.

"Thank goodness," Lothar replied, "I might have started eating the scrap metal, if you hadn't come back soon enough!"

"Bullshit!" Vixen spat back with a laugh.

"Alright, alright," Lothar conceded as he took his plate, "Most likely I wouldn't have. Maybe."

"Whatever," she muttered waving him off as I received my own food, "I got a surprise for you Erich."

"What's..."

I couldn't even finish my train of thought, as I heard the distinct clattering of paws on the tarmac.

Moritz.

He came bounding towards me, and I quickly handed my tray of food back to Vixen, because I knew he was going to want to do something in particular that might not end well for either of us, if the tray remained. The spry hound leaped up into my lap, and hit my stomach a little hard. I didn't care how much it hurt, it was good that he was back. I missed his sense of innocence and pure joy. It gave me hope.

"And that's just the start..." I heard a strangely familiar voice call from outside the hangar.

It was Henrik. He looked much older than I last saw him, even though it had only been a few months. He had grown out a beard, and was dressed in his camouflaged fatigues with a baseball cap resting on his head.

"Good to see you're in one piece," Henrik continued as he came over and shook my hand, "Figured it would be a lot worse."

"I'm glad I'm still anything to call a piece!" I said with a small chuckle.

"Well," Henrik said with a sigh, as he grabbed a folding chair from the pile in the corner of the hangar, "I can't argue with that."

"How've you been doing?" I asked the Wielvakian.

"Been on leave for a while now, we officially ended the mop-up operations in August. Once we had pacified resistance around Gründer in Sudentor, it all fell apart. You were right about them being the key."

"They're pure scum," I spat, "There's no other word that describes them better."

Henrik seemed a little reluctant to re-open any hatred with the war, so he deflected towards Vixen and gave her a chair to sit next to me. She was very quiet, leaning into my shoulder, softly rubbing my hands, and occasionally petting the now sleeping Moritz on his head. It was really...nice.

"So you took care of Moritz, the whole time I was out, Henrik?"

"Well, your hund there was a bit of a handful when you...went down. Lothar told me that he had to wrestle him into the ground so he didn't run into the blaze. After that, he was wild, barking madly, running around incessantly. Moritz was desperate to see you Erich, I've honestly never seen such devotion from a hund before." I looked down to the relaxed dog, quietly resting in my lap. I smiled at him, slowly stroking his back. "Vixen told me to take him away until you woke up. Of course, we had no idea when that would be, but I held my word. I took him to my place back in Wielvakia. After about a month, he calmed down. But there was no hiding he was worried about you. I took him along for some of the exercises with the Edelweiß. The guys loved him, and it was good time. The rest of the crew sends their wishes for your good health."

"I'm flattered, I'm glad they're doing well."

Henrik just simply nodded in reply. I finally grabbed my plate of food from the ground, and ate as much as I could. Once I was finished, Vixen and I said our farewells and she wheeled me back to the hospital. By now, it was already getting dark, and I was dead tired. Even simple acts, like talking, drained my energy. It wasn't going to be any easy recovery by any means.

When we got to my room, the process of getting me into bed began. Let's just keep in mind that I HATE being helpless. It takes four people. Four. Four adults, to help me get in bed. It felt like I was a damn baby all over again. Scheiße.

After about 5 minutes of mental torture, I was in bed. I was exhausted, physically. Mentally, I was much better, but that's not too hard. Vixen had a cot moved into here so she could keep an eye on me. I thought it was weird at first, but I realized I would probably do the same thing if I was in her shoes. I really don't know how she kept herself together while I was out. I guess love can really work wonders.

After a few minutes of staring idly at the ceiling in the dark, I decided to...ask a question.

"Hey Vixen?"

"Yeah Erich? You ok?"

"I just...wanted to ask you something."

"Oh...what's up?"

"I...ever since that dream I had...I wanted to ask you, after all this blows over, would you want to be with me?"I blurted out nervously.

Then what I feared would come, came. Silence. Dead silence. I was so scared of this. I thought it would be an easy thing to sort out. I really loved her. After all this time, I had finally made my choice. She was the one for me, for the rest of my life. I wanted to be with her, it was just...hard to quantify it.

"Erich...I...don't know what to say,"she replied softly.

I'm finished. My mind had shut down already. I hung my head in defeat.

"But...yes. I do want to be with you. I didn't wait half a year for you to wake up, for no reason. I'll be with you to the end. I swear that. I love you."

I could hear her get out of her cot and come over to my right side. We softly embraced, and I cried tears of joy.

"Now, get some rest," she whispered in my ear, which was followed up by a peck on my cheek, "This is only the beginning of the journey."

I closed my eyes at last content, for the first time in my life. I had accomplished my dreams, beyond any expectations. And now, moving onward, I was going to go somewhere no man had ever gone before.


	20. Inner Meet Me

Ch. 20: Inner Meet Me

-December 5, 1995 1300hrs. Valais AFB-

It had been a lot of work. Lots and lots of physical training, therapy, and conditioning. It was non-stop. The only breaks I had were to eat and sleep. That's it. I was so determined to fly, I was willing to devote all my time, my effort, to do so. I busted my ass to get myself upright again. And after two weeks, I had done it. I was able to walk, and do most strenuous activities. Despite all my injuries, I was back in the game.

Now, most of my time was spent hiking in the mountains with Henrik and Moritz. Although the thick snow made it difficult, it made me work harder and forced me to use all my muscles to move even in a normal manner. I enjoyed the challenge. Henrik, however, with his huge amounts of experience with the mountain corps, made it look easy treading through the snow with no problems, with all of his gear, and rifle. I had nothing and I was struggling to keep up at all.

"Are you going to give up?" Henrik called back with a chuckle.

"No," I huffed as I took another step, "I'm going to win that bet."

"Shit Erich, if you can even make it half-way up, I'll just give you the money anyways," the mountaineer said with a hint of astonishment.

"No. We're going all the way."

"Damn. You're crazier than I remember."

Moritz just barked in reply for me.

"Right Moritz, I forgot, craziness runs in his family," he sighed.

I laughed at that. He was right.

As the climb continued to the peak of the 2300 meter tall mountain, I began to struggle even more. A step took around five seconds for me to make. I still soldiered on, knowing that this mountain was more than just a physical goal. If I could do this, I could do anything.

Henrik was clearing a path in front of our little convoy with a spade from his Edelweiß pack, making the snow lighter so I didn't have to trudge through around a meter of pure agony every time I put my feet down.

"Thanks Henrik!" I shouted towards the Wielvakian as we continued.

He didn't even reply. Henrik was too busy doing his job, helping the team get where they needed to go. Moritz was more psychological help than anything. He just had this unshakeable grin every time he ran back from Henrik to me. All I could do was chuckle and keep going. Closer and closer and closer. The top was not far now, the snow was starting to level off, the rocks were finally beginning to show themselves.

"Alright Erich, this is it!"

We began the hardest part of the climb. We had to scamper up rocks that were about 2 meters high. It was going to be hard.

"I'll go first, ok?" Henrik shouted to me as the wind grew ever stronger, "Then you'll hand me Moritz, and then I'll help you up."

"Sounds good!" I shouted back.

And so began the process. The first time was a bit difficult, because I had to really use all my strength to boost Henrik up to the top of each rock. Moritz had to be almost tossed from man-to-man, and he seemed to be rather enjoying himself the whole time. As for my climbing...well let's not really talk about that...I'll just say it was...less than average. We did this for what seemed like a whole day. One after the other, after the other, just more and more rocks. But, there was an end. At around 1700 hrs, we reached the summit, and may I say, the view was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. The snow just sparkled under the sun's rays, the base looked like it was tiny compared to the entire area, just an afterthought in God's rock garden. That whole struggle of getting up here was so worth it.

"Erich, I'm just gonna say, you're the toughest son of a bitch I've ever met," Henrik shouted as we bumped fists.

"You should've met my dad," I yelled as I shook my head, "I swear to God, there was no man tougher than him."

"It seems that trait runs in the family too, huh?" Henrik shouted over the wind as he began to head back down.

"Which one?"

The mountain soldier didn't say anything in return, but I'm pretty sure he was laughing at that comment. Pretty sure.

* * *

-December 6, 1995 Valais AFB 0800hrs.-

After winning the bet that I could climb up the mountain, I was finally taken off my flying restrictions, but since I didn't have a plane to fly yet, I was still grounded. Much to my chagrin. However, a positive of the clock ticking on was that it was a holiday! St. Nicholas's day to be exact. It was kind of like Christmas, but on a slightly smaller scale. Everyone that was on base did a gift exchange in the mess hall, and of course, Vixen had to be the best girl in the whole world and get me a CD player, along with a few CD's too. Vixen and I also got a little doggie scarf with the Galm insignia sewn on, and Moritz was actually liking it. I guess that he also wanted to keep out the cold after that frigid mountain climb. But, my 'main' gift went to Henrik. I got him a new scope for his K98 rifle, and let's just say he was more than pleased with that.

"Holy shit man!" Henrik screamed as he opened the box containing the scope, "A Kreiss scope! I thought I'd never get one of these babies! This thing must have cost you a fortune man, should I give you something to cover at least some of it?"

"I didn't have to pay squat for it. Let's just say I have some connections...and some fans," I smirked as I watched Henrik fawn over the scope like a little kid.

"Dude," the Wielvakian said as he came over and gave me a bear hug, "Thanks a ton."

I gave him a big hug back, "We stick together. We're family now."

"Sure thing," he replied as we fist-bumped, "Might as well be your little brother now."

"No kidding, I suppose that also includes all the annoying parts too, eh?" I shot back with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, come on! I'm not that bad, am I, Vixen?"

"Well..." Vixen trailed off putting her hand on her chin like she was actually thinking about it. I knew she wasn't.

"Whatever," Henrik chimed back in with an eye roll to boot, "I'm going to get a few beers, you guys want some?"

"You should know the answer," I again hit with a mocking call as he began his booze trek.

He gave me the finger. Eh, I deserved that.

"Hey Cipher!" I heard another familiar voice call, I turned and saw PJ with...oh shit.

"Good to see you up and around," PJ said as he shook my hand rather...enthusiastically, "Sorry I haven't been around too much. Once you got better, I got on leave for a little while with Anna, so I couldn't turn it down."

"Don't worry about it, it was no big deal. Henrik was crazy enough to take me mountain climbing yesterday, but besides that it has been quiet," I replied scratching my now grey haired head.

"Ok, good," the young pilot responded with a long outward breath. I don't think I was ever uptight about any of this...

Oh, that thing with Perrault when I went on leave.

"Glad I don't have to bomb the base to come back," PJ replied with a slight chuckle as his girlfriend came up beside him, and he quickly took her hand.

"Hey, that's always a good day," Vixen responded with a smile.

I decided it would now be best to address the new face in the group.

"So, you're the one I've heard about so much," I said turning to...Anna! That's what PJ said her name was.

She stood at about 5'5", and had in reg brown hair. She seemed rather skinny and frail, but she made up for it in her bright face and as I would soon learn, her personality. I had to admit, PJ had picked rather well on this one.

"Yeah," Anna chuckled softly as she put her arm around PJ's shoulder, "I love this knucklehead, as much as I hate to admit it."

"You get a good gift PJ?" I asked.

"Hell yeah!" the young pilot responded as he ran back outside and brought in a rather interesting looking hard case.

I crossed my arms and waited for PJ to open it, and lo-and-behold it was an acoustic guitar.

"Damn! Vixen why didn't you get me that!" I shouted with faked anger.

She quickly gave me a little knock on my head for that.

"I deserved that, for the second time today," I snickered back.

"I've learned a couple of songs, not much though," PJ continued, as he slung the guitar's strap over his shoulder.

"He's not too bad at it," Anna added, "I got it for him yesterday. You should've seen the look on his face when he first opened the case."

"Guys and their toys..."Vixen muttered under her breath.

"Oh shut up," I whispered back, "You're just as bad."

"Whatever," she muttered as she added a small knock to my shoulder.

"Well I've got a few CD's we could go through and you could try to learn a few things by ear, PJ, if you want," I spoke back up.

"Cool! Whatcha got?"

I pulled the cases out of my pocket, and was thumbing through them when PJ stopped me.

"How about this one?" the hotshot asked as he snatched a case from my small pile, "Ok, we're definitely doing this."

He went over to the some of the speakers that were hooked up to a sound system, and plopped the CD. PJ quickly selected a track, and it was one I was actually familiar with. As PJ picked up the beginning of the song's guitar part, we both hopped up on a table. PJ was actually playing it pretty good, so I decided to follow along with the lyrics.

_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_

_Last night I dreamt somebody fell asleep between my knees_  
_I couldn't help it all my thoughts were rejected by a boy who called me_  
_Last night I dreamt somebody fell asleep between my knees_  
_I couldn't help it all my thoughts were rejected by a boy who called me_  
_Last night I dreamt somebody fell asleep between my knees_  
_I couldn't help it all my thoughts were rejected by a boy who called me_

_She said to me_  
_Keep your head up_  
_Never show up_  
_Keep it all in never dream alone_

_Away on a star_  
_Who is too far_  
_Say what you feel_  
_He couldn't heal_

_Never dream alone_  
_Never dream alone_

If_ you can feel that the light is on the ceiling_  
_Then you can't see past your nose_  
_Just what you seeing_  
_She's a fool _  
_I never listen but the people who are Christian all want to move away?_

_She said to me_  
_Keep your head up_  
_Never show up_  
_Keep it all in never dream alone_

_Away on a star_  
_Who is too far_  
_Say what you feel_  
_He couldn't heal_

_Never dream alone_  
_Never dream alone_

Through all of this, everyone else just started clapping along in time. And it was just so goddamn fun, to actually just let loose after all the bullshit. Finally being well, finally getting my life straight.

God, thank you.

"Let's go!" I shouted as we headed back into the song.

_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_

_Last night I dreamt somebody fell asleep between my knees_  
_I couldn't help it all my thoughts were rejected by a boy who called me_  
_Last night I dreamt somebody fell asleep between my knees_  
_I couldn't help it all my thoughts were rejected by a boy who called me_

_She said to me_  
_Keep your head up_  
_Never show up_  
_Keep it all in never dream alone_

_Away on a star_  
_Who is too far_  
_Say what you feel_  
_He couldn't heal_

_Never dream alone_  
_Never dream alone_

_She said to me_  
_Keep your head up_  
_Never show up_  
_Keep it all in never dream alone_

_Away on a star_  
_Who is too far_  
_Say what you feel_  
_He couldn't heal_

_Never dream alone_  
_Never dream alone_

_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_  
_Inner meet me, oh, you can't decide_

The end of the song was met with rapturous applause with PJ and I making our bows. We jumped off the table and took a seat there with Henrik quickly re-entering the fray with beers in hand. Moritz also finally had finished his morning snooping, and plopped into my lap. The girls also quickly joined us, and so began a lot of conversing.

"I have to admit Erich," Anna began, "You're not quite what I expected."

I'm glad she didn't call me Cipher. I'm going to have to tell PJ to stop calling me that on the ground.

"Well, I guess after seeing me comatose for six months, I don't seem like a god anymore," I shrugged, "Not that I wanted to be one anyway."

"I didn't really mean that per se," she replied flicking her hair out of her eyes, "It's just from everything I've heard about you it's seems hard to believe that the Demon Lord of the Round Table is just a normal guy."

"Well, Erich didn't do it alone," Vixen responded, "We had nine starting out. It's just...Erich and I had to really pick up the slack, so we had to perform on an even higher level."

Anna sulked in response to those bad days, "I still remember that shootout over the base when we lost Rainman and Lobo. It was...a bloody battle to say the least."

"No kidding," I responded, "It's still seems hard to believe that we were there, doing all that. It seems like it was such a long time ago, but it was just 7 months."

I quickly saw the table's morale dropping. Time to change that.

"So, how long have you and PJ been together?" I asked.

"Oh, almost a year now. We met in Oured on New Year's Eve actually. My friend was having a party, and PJ was there too. We talked it up after a few minutes, and there you go," Anna smiled as PJ pecked her on cheek, "How long have you and..."

"Vicki, Vicki Ickx," Vixen responded as she held out her hand to Anna.

"I'm sorry, Vicki. I should've asked your name when we met in the hospital," Anna answered quickly and shook back.

"Well," I started, having to think back quite a bit, "We met in training for Ploesti, about two years ago. We weren't really together until about 7 months ago, but you could say we had an interest in each other about, a year and half ago?"

"Yeah," Vixen picked up, "We had been in combat pretty quick, and lost our instructor in combat in the Sapinese civil war. Let's just say our Demon over here had a rough start, and needed someone to keep him on track. That's where I came in, and that's where I'll stay."

I turned my head and looked at Vixen with a gracious look that said 'Thank you, soooooooo much'.

Vixen just gave me a knowing smile as she patted Moritz on his head, and the hund closed his eyes to take a nap.

Anna just quietly leaned into PJ's shoulder, and he just had a big smile on his face. While Henrik, being the insane special forces soldier he is, was already on his third beer, and was still solid as a rock. But, not long after, our peace was disturbed by another friend.

"Hey Erich, you schlafmütze!" the unmistakable voice of my mechanic called from the door.

"What's up?" I called back.

"Got a present for you," Lothar answered, "You all might want to come."

We got up and headed outside into the crisp morning air out to the team hangar, and I spotted something that looked like a jet parked outside the front of the hangar.

"Lothar are my eyes deceiving me?" I asked as I squinted towards the fighter.

"No, they aren't."

My jaw literally hit the floor when we finally got to the hangar. This baby was no ordinary fighter. It currently was a one-off prototype, a joint-effort project between Gründer and Sukhoi to build a Yuktobanian counter to the F-22. And this thing was the result, the Su-50 Firefox. It took the best of both from the YF-23 and the F-22, taking a lower-profile body, along with the thrust-vectoring, and strengthened titanium frame and bulkhead. This thing reportedly smashed the tests set for it, and in the right hands, could destroy just about any modern jet fighter out there.

"Is she ready to go?" I asked anxiously.

"Of course," Lothar nodded with a wry smile, "Your helmet is in the cockpit."

I literally leaped up into the cockpit, and quickly familiarized myself with the controls. I plopped my helmet on, and started the engines up. It sounded absolutely glorious.

"You wanna come up Vixen?" I shouted, "Get your 23! Let's go have some fun!"

She sprinted off in response, and I closed the canopy.

I taxied to the runway, and went into holding until Vixen could catch up. Once she did, I readied myself.

"Tower this is Galm 1 and 2, requesting takeoff."

"Roger Galm 1, good to see you back, you're clear to go. Welcome home."

"Thanks Tower, proceeding."

I throttled up to max, and the Firefox bolted into the sky with ease. I pulled a high G turn off over the base, and that sensation of gravity pushing on me made me feel alive again. It was like I had never left.

"I'm right on you, Cipher. Want to have some fun at 30,000 feet?"

"Sounds good to me!"

I pulled hard up into the clouds while doing a barrel roll, then I pulled a half Immelmann turn to level out. I was enjoying myself right now.

"You ready?" Vixen called as she lined up opposite of me.

"I was born ready," I said with a hint of darkness in my voice.

"Alright Cipher, let's go!"

We stormed past each other, and I immediately reversed and climbed to try and take advantage, but of course, Vixen was doing the same thing. We broke our attacks, and I circled to try and get on her tail. Vixen, however,made a diving pass on me, and I was forced to take evasive maneuvers. I pulled into another hard turn, and chased down after her. Vixen had significantly improved, as she made it very difficult for me to make any sort of shot at her, weaving through the mountains. So, I decided to back off and re-engage from a higher altitude, using the sun as cover for my moves. To my luck, it worked, and the Widow was searching down at low altitude for me. I rolled into a positive-G dive, and put Vixen into a soft lock. She played it smart and got out of my way, forcing me to pull out of my attack and regain my momentum. I chose to climb for some altitude, pulling back hard on the stick to go into a 90 degree vertical climb. I rolled the plane slightly to the right, and Vixen was right there doing the same thing. I waved at her, and she waved back.

If only real fighting was this friendly.

The two jets continued to climb on full burn, with the altitude counters increasing so fast that the computer was struggling to keep up. I was just praying that the Firefox had a higher ceiling than the Widow. As we breached 50,000 feet, the moment of truth was finally here. Vixen's Widow started to peter out at around 53,000 feet, while the Firefox managed to steal another 2,000 feet of sky before being slowed and forced back down to Earth. I latched on to Vixen's tail quickly, and followed her as she did a low run over the mountains. It reminded me of the time I had to buzz the mountains in B7R completely blind. It felt nice to actually see where I was going. Vixen pulled over the mountain line and inverted, diving back down towards dirt. I copied the maneuver with ease and latched back on to her tail. I was in the perfect position for a shot.

"Bang, bang," I called over the comm.

"Damn," I heard her call back, accompanied by some heavy breathing, "Good flying, Cipher."

"You too Vixen, you've really improved," I replied as I took lead of our two plane formation.

"Well, when you have six months of being pissed off, and not much to do about it, let's just say I racked up quite a few hours."

"I don't blame you," I said as I adjusted the engines back down to a low operating speed, checking the dials at the same time to make sure the temperature wasn't funky.

"Well, did I do better than Pixy?"

Ugh. Not that name again.

"Yeah. I caught him on the out of the sun dive. You lasted a good couple of minutes longer."

"Sweet!" Vixen exclaimed with a fist pump, "That feels good!"

"Don't get too cocky," I shot back, "There's always someone out there who's better than you."

"Well if it's just you Cipher, I'm not complaining."

Fair point.

"You wanna hang up here for a while?" I asked Vixen as I looked over off my wing to the Widow.

She nodded silently.

"Cool."

I got my CD player and hooked it in to the comm box, plopping one of the CD's from my portable collection.

_She took me on a Monday, that's what I like to see_  
_Took me on a Tuesday, that's what it meant to be_  
_Took me on a Wednesday, I wouldn't want to say_  
_Going on Thursday, is there any other way?_

I eased back into my seat, and relaxed. This was the first time in a long time that I got to just...fly. I hadn't flown just to fly since...well, since I flew gliders as a kid. It was an interesting experience, not having to worry about a bandit on your six for once. We were just able to enjoy flying for what it is. Freedom. We spent a few quiet hours just coasting up at about 30,000 feet, passing through the thin clouds.

Quite a story I've got now. A nobody farm kid goes on to win the Belkan War, having incredible adversity and impossible odds. He prevailed when even he thought he was going to fail. The man became a myth, a legend. There was only one name they would call him now. The Demon of the Round Table. The pilot that beat Belka at its own game, on its own turf, time after time, after time, after time. I don't even think someone could make something this crazy up.

"Time to come down, you two," the Tower controller called, "We've got to let the rookies do some CAP."

"Roger," I replied as I switched my CD player back off.

We landed without any problems, no bomb detonations to speak of. I pulled the Firefox in front of the hangar as Vixen parked beside me. I popped the canopy open and jumped out onto the tarmac. I looked back up to the new bird with a big old grin.

"Danke schürn," I whispered as I put my hand on the nose, giving it a soft pat.

I turned back around to see Lothar standing right in front of me.

"You like her, Cipher? She's...a hell of a bird,"the mechanic spoke, visibly awestruck by the machine.

"I think you said it for me Lothar," I nodded in reply.

"I wanted to give this to you, it came with the gift," Lothar added as he handed me an envelope.

I opened it, and of course, it was from Vixen's dad.

_To Herr Völler or Von Falkenberg,_

Ah, damn it. I forgot about that.

_I am very happy to hear that you've made a speedy recovery, and that you are able to fly once more. Hopefully, we will no longer deal with the problems of war, for now at least. _

_The plane that has been bequeathed to you is a gift from myself and several other members of the new staff at North Osea Gründer Industries. Yes, that's correct. The Oseans have taken over Gründer and perhaps have ended the reign of terror. But now's not the time to fret._

_Vicki made me aware that you needed a new plane to fly, and I figured this one would suit your needs. It is the Su-50, along with several small improvements that improve the general handling of the aircraft. I hope it serves you well in the future. _

_Good luck and stay safe,_

_WI_

"Vixen!" I shouted towards the Widow.

"Ja?" she replied, making her way over to me.

"Letter from your dad," I answered, handing over the letter to her, "Let's just say this is his St. Nicholas day gift to me."

Vixen smiled as she read through the letter, and handed it back to me.

"Glad that's over," she added as she took my hand.

"Me too," I replied with a peck on her forehead.

Vixen leaned her head into my shoulder as we headed back to the GHQ. The world was finally at peace...

At least for a little while...

* * *

**Glossary:**

**Kreiss: Reference to Zeiss Optics**

**First song is Inner Meet Me by The Beta Band, the second song(briefly used) is Human Being, also by The Beta Band.**


	21. Rebels Without a Real Cause

_These things bring you to reality as to how fragile you are; at the same moment you are doing something that nobody else is able to do. The same moment that you are seen as the best, the fastest and somebody that cannot be touched, you are enormously fragile._

_Ayrton Senna, 3 Time Formula 1 World Champion, died on September 2, 1994 at Imola doing what he did best._

* * *

Ch. 21 Rebels Without a Real Cause

-December 25, 1995 Valais AFB 1000hrs.-

I still remember the Christmas of '95, like it was yesterday. I don't think I'll ever forget...what happened that day. Since it was, of course, Christmas, everyone had been given the day off. Pretty much all the pilots were going to hang out on base, while about three-quarters of ground staff were going home until January 2nd. So, we got to screw around for a while.

Mainly, that was hanging out at The Jet Wash. I stuck with Henrik for the most part, since he was apparently my annoying little brother that wanted to mess around as much as possible. Besides the goofing off, we spent a lot of the time talking about our rifles, the crap we wanted to put on the guns in the future, and drinking some beer. But after a while, I decided to ask the Wielvakian a more serious question,

"Are you ever going to go back to the Edelweiß, Henrik? You have a lot of history with them and a lot of years left to possibly serve," I asked while simultaneously drinking my beer out of a quintessentially Belkan Stein glass.

Henrik seemed stumped by the question for a few seconds, and I could tell he was actually thinking hard about it, with his right hand scratching the bottom of his chin. Henrik took a deep breath, then gave me his answer.

"It depends."

"Depends on what?" I inquired.

He sighed as he took a sip of his beer, "Don't get me wrong Erich, I love working with those guys and gals, and I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. It's just…that's not something I want to be the only thing I ever do in life, climbing mountains and killing people. Not really something I want to do forever, and not really something I want to do just exercises with, for the rest of my career. There won't be any combat around here for a long time."

I understood what he meant immediately. Henrik was damn good at his job, which happened to be a special forces mountain sniper. But, he wanted more out of life, and doing drills until the end of time wasn't appealing.

I was having the same issue myself. As much as I wanted to stay in the Ustian Air Force, I felt like my duty was over, mission accomplished, job done. I needed a new challenge to keep that competitive fire inside me burning, whether it was flying or something else.

"Henrik," I started with a very visible smirk, "I'm going through the same thing right now. I'm honestly thinking about jumping ship and going to Belka, even if I can't fly. I probably could go race cars, play fußball or something. When I figure out what the hell my next thing's going to be, I'll let you know."

"Good."

We fist bumped and turned our attention to the TV that was up and direct 12 o'clock from our position at the bar. Apparently, there was a big peace ceremony going on in Lumen, and the whole thing was getting international broadcasting. With the reinstated monarch, Kaiser Jan von Uberroth, showing up to this ceremony, it obviously was a big deal. The whole bar went silent as the Belkans held a moment of remembrance for the lost soldiers in the war.

I miss you guys. Buzzard…Lobo…Rainman…Zero…Tiger…I'll never forget you. I did it. I kept my promise, Buzzard. I hope that wherever you are, up there looking down on me, you know I did it. You know that the war's over. I hope you do, and that you can finally rest, away from that bullshit.

But almost as a symbolic answer to the ceremony, several jets flew over the proceedings, raining hot lead and thousand kilo bombs. And that wasn't even the worst part. There was a giant black monstrosity flying over the area, casting a massive shadow on the ground. Everyone in the bar was awestruck at what the TV cameras were recording. A massive airship flying through the skies, raining its own havoc upon the city. The thing was firing massive shells and missiles down into the square and surrounding urban area, causing immeasurable civilian casualties. From what the cameras were barely picking up, all the people were scrambling for cover, and after another minute, with the camera shoved into the dirt and muffled explosions going off constantly, the feed cut out. We all just stood there, rooted to the floor.

The only question I had was, who was dumb enough to pull something like that? Causing civilian casualties is only going to get everyone to turn on you, and make sure that everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to crucify you.

But there was no longer time to try and guess what was going on. The time was for action.

"Everyone, get your gear and get ready for the call-up!" I shouted, breaking the eerie silence, "Vixen, PJ, you're on me. We're going to get in the air ASAP and await further orders."

After I finished, everyone scrambled out of the bar to get themselves ready. I sprinted to my room, and put my gear on as quick as I could. Moritz was sitting on his bed, ears up and alert. He could tell that whatever was going on, wasn't good. I didn't want to leave him here alone, in case anything happened. I whistled for him to follow me as I walked back out the door of my room, and the hund wasn't far behind.

Luckily, Lothar had stayed behind for Christmas, and he was getting the remaining ground crew into action to have our planes combat ready. He wasn't pleased with how long it was taking, but it was better than having to do it ourselves.

I sprinted to my plane, and strapped myself in, so I could be ready to go at a moment's notice. My new Pour Lé Merite was now dangling at my neck along with my Teresa, and honestly, I actually felt like the badass everyone else I said that I was. The Blue Max was always the medal that the fighters pilot strove for in order to prove their greatness. Although I had done it a thousand times over already, to receive this medal, from my enemy no less, I thought was an accomplishment that no one would ever equal or surpass. I couldn't believe it, but I was actually better than my father.

I called for Moritz to sit up in my lap as we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A half-hour had gone by, and the Firefox still wasn't ready and neither was anyone else's bird. I still needed my AMRAAM's, Vixen needed her cannon ammunition, and PJ still hadn't been fueled up.

I sighed and let my head hit the seat as I stared up into the cloudless sky.

Gonna be one of those days, isn't it?

"C'mon you pieces of shit!" Lothar yelled at the crew, "The war's back on! Get your heads out of asses and move!"

The mechanic turned to me not a moment after and mouthed 'Sorry.'

I chuckled and waved him off, and as I began to turn my head back, I heard a loud roar coming in from my seven o'clock. I hopped up from my seat to look, and I saw a Rafale diving down towards the base, followed by a Flanker, and off in the distance was that monstrosity that had bombed Lumen. It was even worse to see the damn thing in person. It was absolutely menacing, hundreds of feet from wingtip to wingtip, armed to the teeth with a wide assortment of weapons, and powered by massive engines spitting out unholy fire.

I was so frightened, that I grabbed Moritz up in my arms and literally vaulted out of the cockpit as fast as I could.

"MOVE IT! GET THE HELL OUT! GO! GO! GO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as cannon rounds struck the tarmac that I once occupied, barely missing myself and my fighter. Vixen was right behind me as we ran into a ditch about 20 feet behind the hangar, and pushed ourselves as hard as we could into the ground. We hoped it would be enough.

The ground shook and rattled constantly for the next five minutes. I didn't dare look up. I was scared to death of seeing a missile, a bomb, or a bullet racing square towards my head, and killing Vixen, Moritz, and I. I turned my head to see Vixen's face, and she was forcing her eyes shut as hard as she could. I put my free arm that wasn't holding onto to Moritz around her, pulling her close to me. Vixen instinctively tried to push away, but once she opened her eyes and saw it was me, she relaxed and pulled herself in. We kept huddling for the next ten or so minutes, until the sounds of jets and bombs were far enough away.

We slowly stood back up, and as soon as I took a look around, I wish I hadn't. I lot of base's facilities had been heavily damaged, along with most of the other hangars and some of the runways. Without any hesitation, we ran back to our planes and decided to take off as-is. PJ had managed to get his Falcon fueled, but my lack of AMRAAMs and Vixen's lack of cannon ammunition was not good at all. But, we didn't have much of a choice. That thing would get away if we didn't get airborne now.

I left Moritz with Lothar, who was now directing some sort of repair operations, and he waved us on without a word.

When I remember those moments sitting in the cockpit, chasing after that massive airship, the Hreslvegr, I remember being angry. My head was full of the anger and drive that I had at the start of the war. The cycle was just going to repeat itself, over and over, into the infinite. I couldn't understand why these guys thought that this would accomplish whatever goal they had. I knew it would only get everyone else to turn on them. This seemed to be in the same vein of thought as an old friend…

"Galm 1, we are currently tracking the Hresvelgr, it's passing over the Waldreich mountains now, and running back to wherever it came from. You have around 20 minutes to make the intercept and down the craft," Eagle Eye called in, "You're the best shot we have. Go show 'em what the Demon is made of."

I had an evil smile on my face, my brain racing with rage and pulsing with adrenaline.

"Vixen, engage any and all targets from long range with your Slammers, including the airship. PJ, I want you making runs on the Hresvelgr all the time, keeping them on their heels. I'll take care of any and all escort craft. We clear?"

"Roger."

"Roger."

"Good," I answered as I strapped on my oxygen mask, and lowered my visor, checking all directions for craft coming my way.

After another few minutes on course for intercept, I was now picking up friendly blips on my radar and IFF. From their signatures, they were two Sapinese planes, and they were orbiting in a CAP pattern around the Hresvelgr. They broke off from their pattern once I was within visual range, and came on direct intercept course.

"Let's see what the Demon Lord is really made of," I heard the flight lead of the two-plane group call over our comms, "This is Espada 1, initiating attack."

"This is Espada 2, I'm right behind you," the other one called.

I watched as the two planes came streaking my way, and I immediately raced above them.

"Vixen, give them one a piece, over."

"Roger, firing," she responded.

I then pulled into a Split-S to put me into position to catch the scattering planes. I latched on to the tail of the leader, flying an old Draken, but by no means was he a slouch in that fighter. The Espada leader was not going down without a fight, as he pulled into a tight, slow turn down into a spiraling descent. I copied with maneuver with ease, and about half-way down, I cut out of the maneuver, and went into a straight dive. I buzzed right by his tail to make him break out. He did, and was on my tail. In response, I inverted and pulled into a dive, knowing that I could out turn the old Draken. I managed to squeeze him off my tail, but the Rafale had turned into a head-on intercept course. I fired off a flurry of hot lead from my cannon, forcing the Sapinese pilot to leave me alone.

"How's the strike going PJ?" I radioed in a obviously unconcerned tone to screw with the enemy if they were listening.

"Well, it's ok. I've managed to take out most of the Hresvelgr's defenses, I'm currently going after the engines."

"Roger, Vixen, split off and engage the Hresvelgr with PJ. I got these chumps."

"I copy, Cipher. Moving to engage."

Vixen's YF-23 blasted past me, quickly entering supersonic speed. The sonic boom rattled the chasing Sapinese pilots, and gave me enough time to hook my CD player.

_Knock it all down! Will the song live on, long after we do? Will the song live on?_

I pushed the Firefox into the chase again, after the Draken, and this time I wasn't going to play nice. I throttled up to decrease the gap between myself and the Draken, and as I kept going the gap decreased, second by second. And eventually, I was right on his tail, about 300 meters away.

_Can I graduate?! Can I graduate?! Can I look at faces that I meet? Can I get my punk ass off the street? I've been living on for so long, Can I graduate?!_

The Draken attempted a brake check on me, but I pulled into a inverted loop to end up right behind him, I wasn't letting him go. I got a clean lock for my sidewinder, and fired.

"Now you know how the Demon fights!" I yelled at the manipulated pilots.

The sidewinder impacted into the Draken's underbelly, and severely crippled it. I didn't bother with engaging him further. I knew he was going to be forced to ex-fil whether the pilot liked it or not.

The Rafale then came out of nowhere on my six o'clock high. I hit the burners and gained as much altitude as I could, hoping that would be putting some distance between myself and the Rafale. The Firefox was going as fast as it possibly could, climbing thousands of feet in mere seconds. The Rafale couldn't keep up, and I was able to reverse my climb and come diving back down.

_Can I graduate?!_

I locked up another sidewinder and fired it as soon as I was within range. I pulled out of the run as soon as the missile left the pylon, turning my attention to Hresvelgr. From my mirror, I saw the Rafale explode in a flash, with the pilot's chute visible above the tumbling wreckage.

That's why you don't screw with my nation, my people, or me. It's going to get you killed.

"Update on the Hresvelgr!" I ordered over the radio.

"Engines are almost down," Vixen replied quickly, "If you could hit the AAM silos, it would be greatly appreciated."

"I copy, moving to destroy all AAM silos."

"Status update to Galm Team, ten minutes until the Hresvelgr is out of operational area. Keep up the attack," Eagle Eye chimed in with the update.

"Galm 1 copies all, we should be through in a minute or two Double E."

"Roger, keep up the good work."

I decided the best plan of attack was to hit the silos from the Hresvelgr's 9 o'clock, giving me a good amount of time to sight in the targets and fire. I got a good visual from the target signatures coming up on my HUD and brought up the gun's targeting reticle on the screen. I confirmed my targets with the radar, picking up six AAM silos in total. From about 1500 meters out, I started firing in three seconds bursts, hitting each silo, starting with the one closest to my current position. Each one went up in flames after my fire, and I was able to stop the harassing enemy fire. Vixen and PJ then quickly dispatched the rest of the engines.

"Alright, all engines are down Cipher," Vixen stated as she broke off from her successful attack run, "All that's left is the cockpit. Let's bring this son of a bitch down."

"I like that idea," I responded coldly.

I pulled up into a steep climb, then rolled into a Split-S, putting me square-on with the front of the monstrosity.

"Eat this!"

I unleashed absolutely everything that I had left in the Firefox, cannons, you name it. I was mashing down all of the fire buttons as hard as I could. I wanted this thing to die. It needed to die.

Once all of my ordinance hit the cockpit, the Hresvelgr, for the lack of a better word, erupted. All of the ammo stores and fuel burst into flames, and the massive airship tumbled towards the earth, trailing smoke. Once it hit the ground, it was almost like a miniature nuke went off. A mushroom cloud engulfed the wreckage, and the remains of the super weapon shattered as it collided with the mountains and snow below.

And this whole time there was a single radar signature circling around the carcass like a vulture. The blip eventually sped off, but not before sending a coded message our way.

"Decoding," PJ stated as he went to work, "Yo…buddy, still…alive? That was Pixy?! He was a part of this?!"

"I knew he was in it from the beginning. This whole attack reeked of his thinking and the thinking of his 'friends'_,_" I spat angrily as our group formed up at 25,000 feet, "It was only a matter of time before they tried anything."

"I was hoping we wouldn't have to deal with this…" Vixen muttered, obviously disgusted with the developments.

"We'll get him soon enough, and we'll end this bullshit once and for all," I sighed, "I'll keep my promise."

At that moment, my hands started to shake uncontrollably as I pulled my flight helmet off, settling down for the cruise back to base. My head was pulsing so hard it felt like hammers were pounding inside my head, shattering my skull into pieces. I let out a loud mix of a grunt and a scream, pushing my head hard back against the seat. I tried to stop the pain, rubbing my head with both hands, drinking some cold water from my pack, but it wasn't working.

"Cipher, you ok in there?" I heard Vixen ask cautiously.

"Yea-arggghhh," I tried to respond before the pain surged again.

"Erich! Are you hit?!" She countered with a hint of anger and concern. I was angry at myself for scaring her out of her mind.

"No, no, no!" I shouted back, having to think rather hard about my words, "I just have this absolutely _terrible_ headache right now. I have no clue why the hell I have it. I'm probably going to have to go to medical. This shit doesn't seem right."

"Ok, Erich," she responded quietly, "You mind if I tag along?"

"No, of course not."

We continued back to base in total silence with my head continuing to throb terribly. After landing, I raced to park the Firefox so fast, that I'm pretty sure I took a turn on two wheels. The medical crews were already there waiting for me with a stretcher, and I quickly plopped myself on it. They offered me an oxygen mask, and this time knowing all of my problems, I didn't hesitate to take it.

I was X-rayed, scanned, and tested in every which way you could imagine. Nothing was coming up though.

"There's nothing that I can see on here, I'm afraid, Colonel," Dr. Richter informed me as I was placed into my old bed that I spent half a year.

"Well," I replied rubbing my head as I laid back in my bed, "It's not pleasant."

"I'm sure," he replied with an evident concern on his face, "I've got some painkillers for you, just some basic stuff. If this kills it, and hopefully it will, it is most likely just some acclimation with the flying. Just get some rest Colonel, that will most likely do you the most good."

"Thanks," I replied with a whisper as he left me alone in the room.

I sat there staring at the ceiling, thinking on what had happened today. I wasn't surprised that Pixy was involved, but it really just pissed me off. How could he do this, after all I told him, after I pointed out all the signs to him that he was being played? It didn't make sense. But I guess longstanding friendship and camaraderie can do that to you, blind you from the real truth.

I heard the door to the room open and I sprang up to see who it was, it was Vixen, out of her G-suit, and just dressed in her fatigues. Her face lacked its normal color, and her eyes expressed a worry I had never seen from my normally stoic wingman.

"You ok, Vicki?" I probed, rather carefully. I didn't want to make it worse.

She didn't respond as she crawled under the covers and wrapped her arms around me.

"I just," she whispered into my ear, "I was afraid that something really bad happened."

I turned my head to hers and we kissed for a few long seconds, rather unlike the normal small kisses we gave each other. This just...felt right for once.

"You know that I'm always here," I answered touching the center of her chest, "Even if I'm not standing right next to you, or even if I'm not off your wing, just know that. I'm not ever going to lose you. I've lost so much already, I don't think I could take it if I lost the girl I love so much. You mean too damn much to me."

Her face went bright red at that comment, "You sure know how to flatter, Erich."

"Well Vicki," I replied with a chuckle as I put my arms around her, "I'm just glad I have a girl worthy enough of that praise. Without you...I wouldn't have made it this far."

"Thanks," she replied with a small smile, "I'm glad I could help."

"Now, as much as I would love to talk with you some more, my head is killing me. So can we please go to sleep?"

"Yes sir, Colonel," she playfully remarked.

I closed my eyes and pulled her in closer, and she scooted herself to have her head resting on my chest. I slowly drifted off to sleep, resting for the final battle with an old friend.

There would be nothing else quite like it.

* * *

**AN/:The song used is "Graduate" by Third Eye Blind.**


	22. Rez

_"I scream, I scream, I scream so much..._

_You know what I mean. this electric stream._

_And my tears in league with the wires and energy and my machine._

_This is my beautiful dream._

_I'm hurting no one. hurting no one..._

_I want to give you everything._

_I want to give you energy. I want to give a good thing._

_I want to give you everything. everything..._

_In one final scream of love who could climb this high she looks beautiful_

_Like a child I feel tears. and I want to scream._

_You know what I mean cause this is hurting no one. an erazor of love."_

_Cowgirl-Underworld(For full head banging dogfighting euphoria, look up Underworld Rez/Cowgirl Live at Reading 1996. I was dancing to that as I wrote the dogfight, and it's also 90's trance so it fits in with the time period too.)_

* * *

Ch.22 Rez

-December 26, 1995 0700hrs. Valais AFB-

I woke up without any nightmares this time, with the morning sun just barely peeking in through the windows.

Glad I didn't have to go through _that_ again.

I felt the slow breathing of Vixen on my chest, and I relaxed back onto my pillow, just staring back up at the ceiling. I went back to thinking about Pixy.

Pixy.

That name had so much emotion behind it, so many memories. It boggled my mind that my…friend had betrayed me, still after all this time. There was a part of me that wanted it to just go back to the way it was before, Pixy here, flying with me again as a friend. But as long as his 'friends' were still alive…I doubt it would every be that way again.

I turned my thoughts away from that as I quietly left my bed, and put my uniform, medals, and crusher cap back on. Before I walked out the door, I looked back to Vixen, still sleeping, without a single worry in the world. I could only smile at that moment, and of what it meant life would be like when this was all over.

I decided it was a good time to get myself back on course. I started with a visit over to the team hangar to see how the Firefox was holding up. Lothar of course, was busy doing some work on the fuselage's armor, and had a few of the panels from behind the cockpit on the ground. He looked like he was doing some sort of welding, but I wasn't too sure. As soon as I was within 100 meters of the hangar, he dropped everything and hurried over to me.

"Hey Erich!" the mechanic yelled with a giddy grin, "How's it going?"

"Not bad!" I shouted back as I finally entered the confines of my plane's home, "How's the new girl doing?"

"Pshhhh," he waved me off, "Don't you worry about that! This bird is doing really good. She's got no problems so far. This is just a routine check that Vixen's dad said I should do after the first couple of flights, to make sure the metal is holding up. I just got done looking at the bulkhead and some other things."

"You heard anything about the guys that bombed us?" I asked as I climbed up into the Firefox's cockpit.

"Not much. Apparently they moved some big coalition counter-espionage unit over here last night to trace signals. So far it looks like they're in Belka, and besides that I haven't heard anything. PJ did tell me that Pixy was there."

"Yeah…" I murmured, desperately holding back my anger, "He was there."

"Figures. You were right, anyways," the mechanic said with a chuckle, "Oh, and Henrik went back to the Mountain Corps. He said he was sorry he couldn't say goodbye in person. It sounded like the unit's going to be deployed to wherever the assholes are."

Good luck my friend. I hope I can see you again.

"Probably looking like it's going to be the last ride," I said with a hint of disappointment, as I did an electronics check, "As much as I hate war, I going to miss flying these old girls."

"Who says you can't fly these when you're done?" Lothar inquired as he put on a welding mask and continued his work on the panels.

"I don't know if peacetime flying is what I want to do."

He just laughed as he lifted his mask back up, "Isn't that what you did for what, five or six years before you joined the company?"

"Yeah…that was before I realized what all this is. It's a totally different rush."

"I guess I can understand that. It's like going from playing Belkasliga fußball to somewhere in Osea. It's just not the same thing."

"Right," I said back as I hopped down out of the Firefox, "I just don't know where I want to go."

"Maybe it'll just play out in a way you don't even know yet," Lothar said as he welded with a shrug, "You never know everything that's going to happen."

"Well…that's how I got good," I said back.

"Get the hell out," Lothar said with a hearty laugh, "You're not flying today."

"Alright, alright," I finished as I held my hands up defensively, "Just don't shoot me."

"Who's saying I won't?"

Really, Lothar?

"I'm just kidding."

I just shook my head as I took my leave.

* * *

-December 30, 1995 Valais AFB 1200hrs.-

Valais was normally really damn quiet. We were the only operation squadron operating in this whole region.

Well, that was until about 4 hours ago.

The Ustian Air Force, rather smartly, had called for backup. There were squadrons from Osea and Yuktobania, along with three attacker squadrons who were from Ploesti. They had informed me that Ploesti had made me in the Skyboss, and that no one was going to challenge me at the New Year's duel. That alone made me break into tears, and I retired to my room to try and calm myself down. I sat down on my bed and just sobbed into my hands for what felt like several hours. Moritz had been asleep on his bed, but popped his head up to see what was going on. He lied his head back down, and figured it was best to leave me be.

They had made ME Skyboss? _The_ Skyboss? God, Andrianov would be really proud. I think that's what he wanted in the end, for me to take his place when he finally retired. It was really awful that he didn't get to see me do any of this. I desperately wanted to talk to him, tell him everything that had happened, but I couldn't. The only people who shared my troubles were all dead or gone…or were they?

At that exact moment, I remembered being back in Oured, when that old man…Dwight? I had his card!

I scrambled over to the telephone in my room and found the card in my desk and dialed the number. Almost immediately, he picked up.

"Hello, Dwight Autenberry, speaking," the old man said over the line.

"Mr. Autenberry, this is Erich von Falkenberg, we met in Oured a couple of months ago."

"Erich… Ah, yes! You're Tomas's son. I was wondering when you were going to call."

"My apologies on that part, Mr. Autenberry, I was in a coma for six months, and I only woke up at the end of November."

"Oh," he paused, "I'm very sorry to hear that. But I guess you're not calling to tell me about that, hmm? I'm no doctor after all."

"No, it was about something a little different. Mainly, about my dad," my voice spoke for me, traced with sorrow.

"Of course, Erich," Dwight said in a more somber tone. "I spent a little while with him, right before the end of war, and a little bit after. I'll try to answer any of your questions to the best of my ability."

"Thanks, Mr. Autenberry, I really appreciate this."

"Please, call me Dwight, Erich. I may be older than you, but quite plainly, there is no hierarchy between pilots."

"That's very kind of you," I replied wiping away some tears, "Did my Dad ever discuss his problems about what he was going to do after the war?"

"Yes, we spent quite a bit of our time together on that very thing, since we were both experiencing the same issue. The camps… they forced his hand, unfortunately. In that, I believe Tomas lost all motivation to fly in any sort of air force again. I had…other things come up that forced my hand as well, but believe me, if we had a choice, we would have flown together. Someway. Somehow."

"He never really told me about the time in the camps. Just a few bits and pieces."

"It was hell, Erich. Hell in its most unfiltered form. I visited him once, when I was able to make sure the people that ran the camp didn't know who I was. Tomas was tortured badly by a government I was shamed to call my own. They wanted him to fly for their air force, and he resisted. And resisted, and resisted... I couldn't believe the strain he was under… or the will power he possessed. The camp warden had even put him in solitary confinement, away from his comrades. I knew he was frightened at that time, that he truly felt like he was alone."

I was silent at these words. No wonder my father had told me to stop. He didn't want me to be abused by the system, lost in the endless tide of governmental meddling.

"After that," Dwight continued with a long sigh, "He was desperate. Desperate to leave, and go somewhere, anywhere. That's when he broke his arm. I'm sure he mentioned that part to you."

"He did."

"Well, since the camp was run by the cheapest bunch of bastards Osea could wrangle up, they let him go since he was no longer a profitable investment. My government had given up at that point on bringing him in, so, he walked all the way back to the Belka."

"Wait…he actually walked? You can't be serious! Even though he told me that, I thought it was just a bedtime story!" I exclaimed skeptically.

"Yeah… He walked, caught freight trains, hitchhiked, whatever he could catch a ride on, he used. When he finally showed up at my place, he was a mess in more ways than one. I helped him right his mind for a month or so, and then one morning, he vanished, his 262 I was taking care of going with him. About two months after that, he came back, looking much happier. He told me that he had met your mother, Elise. I had never seen him that happy."

"I never really knew my mom," I quietly mumbled.

"She was a good woman, Erich. She really, really loved you. Anyone could tell by the way she looked at you. The way she teated you like a piece of treasure. My wife and I went to her funeral, when you were two or three, so I doubt you remember that."

"There are fragments of it, but not enough of it."

"After that, Tomas was pretty much done," Dwight sighed. "We only spoke once after that, when he called me about letting you fly."

"He called you?"

"Sure did. Tomas, he wanted to see what I thought about it. I told him you were going to do it whether he wanted you to or not, and that you'd appreciate it if he helped you."

"I really did. That shell you talk about…Dad really came out of it once he starting teaching me. It was like an old friend came back."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Tomas deserved some happiness after all he went through..."

"Are any of his wingmen alive?"

"I'm not sure, Erich. I believe any knowledge about them died with your father. You'll just have to reach out and see what you pick up on that one."

"Nevertheless, thanks. For talking with me."

"No problem, junge. I'm glad you remembered that you're not the only one out there."

"I promise that I'll stop by once this all blows over."

"The door's always open, Erich."

"Thanks Dwight, bye."

"Goodbye."

I hung up the phone and just sat there in total shock over the conversation that had taken place.

I'm complaining, Christ! I don't have to go to a damn POW camp after all this is over.

I heard a soft knock on my door, and I didn't even turn my head.

"Come in."

I heard a small creak from the door, then, "I heard you had shut yourself up in here."

I turned my head just enough to see Vixen standing there.

"Sorry, I had to make a phone call."

"Aw, save me the bullshit Erich," she shot back as he scratched the top of my head with her knuckles.

"Oh come on! I'm being serious!" I spat as I pushed her hand off my head.

"Was it the old man in Oured?"

"How'd you guess?" I sighed in mock defeat.

"I figured you'd call someone who'd been through it before for some advice."

"I would've…"

Vixen placed her finger over my lips, and waved for me to stop.

"You didn't need to ask me. Sure we did it together, but the end of the road…we haven't gotten there yet. I know you're afraid, that you don't know where it goes."

"How'd you…"

"Lothar."

"The bas…"

Again she stopped me with her finger.

"I didn't ask. He told me because he was afraid something was wrong. He was just looking out for you."

I let out a breath, then stood up, looking straight at Vixen. I took both of her hands, and held them firmly in mine.

"Are you ready to end this?" I asked her.

"More than ever."

I let my head come down and rest on hers, closing my eyes. It would be my last peaceful moment for the next 48 hours…

* * *

-December 31, 1995 Valais AFB. 0500 hrs.-

"Good morning, everyone," Chennault brought the briefing room to attention, giving a quick, sharp salute, "At ease."

We all took our seats. I was sitting near the front next to Vixen and PJ. I had a grim look on my face. I wasn't feeling very optimistic about the operation.

"Our counter-espionage unit has managed to pinpoint the location that was broadcasting signals to the Hresvelgr. We've discovered that A World With No Boundaries has garrisoned at the Avalon Dam, for a specific reason. The dam was a secret Belkan storage site for the V2 nuclear missile, a weapon capable of destroying half of all inhabited areas in either Osea and Yuktobania," Chennault seemed visibly stressed by that data, but he quickly resumed, "In order to get to Avalon in Belka, we're going to have a hell of a fight on our hands. The shortest way is going to go through B7R, and I'm positive they will put resistance there to slow us down. The Galm Team will head into the area, and divert all attacking forces will the attackers will bypass and escape. After that, all planes will meet at rally point Lima 17. At this point, the attacker planes will fly over the river valley to divert enemy Ack-Ack and allow Galm Team to break through."

God, these new guys were going to be just damn cannon fodder for us. Damn it!

I banged my fist hard into my chair, and everyone gave me a look of deep concern.

"I'm fine," I growled, "I'm fine."

I could tell Chennault had read my frustration, but he knew he couldn't say anything.

"After that, all planes will attack the weak points locating in the tunnels at extreme low altitude. I'd assume that there are enemy AA and SAMs down there, so be careful. Once these are destroyed, all planes will standby to assist ground forces," Chennault concluded for the last time.

The general silently looked out over all of us, measuring us all up. Chennault then turned to me and smiled. He just nodded. He didn't need to say anything.

I called the room to attention, and we all stood, frozen to our spots as the war bird left the room. I grabbed my walking cane, and began my last long walk to the flight line, in the purple twilight of the morning.

Moritz was by my left, prancing like a cavalry horse on parade, and Vixen was on my right, silent, staring off in front. Our minds were all empty. I didn't know what to think. All of this, all my training, all of my fighting, it came down to this, this one last fight, the battle that would decide the fate of the entire world. It rested in my hands, Belkan hands. Everyone down the line was saluting me as I walked by, I copied Chennault's example and nodded at them. My cane was pounding into the heated tarmac, with each step I took.

We finally reached our planes, but before we mounted up, I wanted to do something.

"Vixen, PJ, once you get your helmets, come over here," I ordered.

"Ok…?" Vixen replied with a shrug.

"You got it Cipher," PJ remarked as he bolted over to his F-16.

I stood in front of my Firefox, as the other two came over, and I put my helmet on, visor down. As soon as Vixen saw me do that, she immediately knew what was happening and perked up.

"Huh, I get my picture on the wall now…"PJ said, visibly awed with a low hanging jaw.

"You deserve it, kid," I replied as I put my arms around them both, "Moritz!"

The hund quickly bounded over to us, and sat on his butt in front of us. Lothar then came over with the camera, and backed up about 3 meters from us and settled into a crouch.

"Alright, now everyone say, Käse!" the mechanic called out like a giddy toddler.

"Käse!"

The camera flashed, preserving one of my last moments in this stupid war on film, forever. I gave everyone hugs, and climbed up into the cockpit. I strapped myself in, and did my pre-flight checks, glancing off to the horizon as the sun was finally ready to start the day. Lothar came up the ladder, and we clasped hands.

"Give 'em hell, Erich," he growled, "For Buzzard, For Rainman, For Lobo, For Zero. All of them."

"You know I will," I snarled back, "Take care of Moritz for me."

"I will," the mechanic replied as I let go, and Lothar jumped down to the ground, and detached the ladder. I slid my glass tube shut, and hooked up my oxygen mask. The Firefox's engines screamed to life, and led the utterly massive group of planes down the runway. I lined up on the runway for the last sortie, to save my world.

"Tower, this is Galm 1, requesting permission for takeoff, over."

"Roger Galm 1, this is Tower, permission granted for all aircraft, in sequence. Good luck to you all, over."

I gunned the engines, putting the afterburners on, and took off into the Ustian skies. I pulled hard back on the stick and rolled onto my belly, then went down into a wide counter-clockwise turn to pass back over the base. I rolled onto my side to see everyone waving up to me, and I saluted them back, and also gave them a sonic boom to boot. I then turned away from the runway to keep the path clear, leveling out at 35,000 feet to lead the war formation to Belka.

Vixen was on my left, and PJ was on my right.

They're watching me today, from up there, way out in the stratosphere.

I stared up into the partly cloudy skies, taking in the gravity of the battle, of my battle. I had come incredibly far to finally end this meddling for good. When I stood over the carcass of Avalon, Gründer, the Grey Men wherever they were, would forever fear _my _name, the one they would never forget. They couldn't silence me, my father, or my wingmen anymore. That time was finished. The world would finally wake up today, and I would get the honor of pulling off the blindfold.

-Area B7R 1200 hrs.-

As the day dragged on, the skies became bleaker and more grey with every passing moment. But, the arena was finally coming to view. Some people called it my second home, my domain, and my kingdom. It was the Round Table. And I was its Demon.

"Lancer 1, this is Galm 1. Break from formation, and proceed to Lima 17. Do not stop and avoid all combat," I ordered with an abnormal robotic tone.

God that sounded inhuman.

"Roger Boss. We're moving out. Lancer squadron breaking, all other attackers squadrons stay close, over."

"Roger Boss, Titan squadron splitting off, over."

"Roger, this is Bearcat squadron, we're following Lancer, over."

"Roger, this is Badger squadron, proceeding to Lima 17, over."

"Роджер, Galm Lead, this is гадюка squadron, we're following Lancer, over."

"Роджер, this is ястреб squadron, heading to the rally point."

And with that, the 30 planes behind us had split off and left us alone to head into the roundtable. It was weird being back with so little going on, compared to Operation Battle Axe this was...silent. The apocalyptic wasteland that had become my proving ground was right in front of us. And right on the cue from God, the stage was being set.

"Galm Team, this is Eagle Eye. I am picking up two groups of aircraft coming in, both in groups of eight, for a total of sixteen hostiles. You a free to engage at will, and destroy the targets by any means necessary," the AWACS controller informed us as our radar screens were now picking up the planes, "Go show them why you are the Demon Lord of the Round Table!"

Approximately four to one odds. I've seen worse. Andrianov would have died to have a fight like this.

"Alright you two, it's time. Conserve as much ammunition as you can, I want this business done ASAP. We clear?"

"Roger Cipher," Vixen replied, "Let's give them a taste of the real world."

"Yeah!" PJ exclaimed, "Time to drag them out of the fairy tale!"

"Alright then! Galm Team, engage!"

We all pulled into a steep climb, cutting through the thick cloud cover like it was soft cotton. I lined up the Firefox right over the signatures, and then pulled into a Split-S dive, with Vixen and PJ following suit.

"I hope you're watching me now, Boss," I whispered as I cut through the clouds. But, the rebel pilots hadn't played stupid, and were climbing up to attack us. I didn't hesitate as I released a sidewinder on the first plane I could lock on to, a Su-47 Berkut forward-swept wing fighter. The missile was eager to make itself useful, as it streaked to the fighter within an instant, striking its engines and sending the fighter plummeting to its demise.

"Er ist also der, den sie von zu sprechen..."

I rolled the Firefox over to left, engaging what looked like a F-15S/MTD, and sent a burst of cannon shot straight into the cockpit, killing the pilot instantly.

I hit the afterburners and made a close run with the ground as I went back into another climb, weaving through a hail of missiles and cannon fire. It was weird, it just didn't even faze me.

"Why do you fight, Demon Lord?" A Belkan voice called over the radio, my radio.

"Get off my damn channel," I responded quickly as I picked out a lagging Berkut as my target.

"Why do you dismiss us, Demon Lord?" A different voice called out.

Of course, _I_ have to fight the crazy ones.

I continued my attack run, following the Berkut, and mirroring each turn and twist it made, he went into a Immelmann turn to try and shake me, but I pulled hard right, then performed an Immelmann of my own, ending up right next to him. The Berkut's pilot hit the airbrakes, but I had anticipated this move. I mirrored, and we continued to slow ourselves down, forcing each other into stall speed.

"Do you know why we fight, Demon Lord?"

"Yes, I do. You fight because your masters tell you to. You are no different than a slave."

"But, I am no different than you, Demon Lord. I fight for the same reason as you."

"Right," I said sarcastically, as I watched the Berkut fall into its stall, and I hit the throttle to continue my pursuit. It was like a shark smelling blood. I wasn't going to let him escape. "I assume I'm chasing you, then?"

I heard a chuckle come back.

Good.

I continued my pursuit, and he copied my technique of doing a low run over the mountains on the south side of the Round Table. Too bad that I was willing to run even lower than he was.

"I fight because I'm tired of politicians deciding the future, deciding who's land belongs to who, where the people no longer have a voice."

He pulled a tight turn over the peaks, and I copied his turn pulling higher, as he reversed. I still ended up right on his tail.

"I fight because the world is controlled by politicians who have never placed a foot on the battlefield. It's a disgusting squabble over who gets the largest piece of the pie, and that's why it needs to end. It is for that duty we raised the King. That's why we're fighting," the Belkan concluded with very noticeable smug finish.

"_You _fight? _You _fight?" I spat back at him, "_You_ fight for a cause so unbelievably idiotic that you'll never win. This 'World with No Boundaries' concept will always fail. People will always follow a flag, an identity, a cause over an abstract anarchist dream. No country or people has sided with _you_. _You_ have no allies, and that's why _you_ will fall today._ I_ know who your damn King is! And he _will_ lose the fight to me! He's lost to me before!"

"That's if _you_ escape, Demon Lord. All planes, ignore the other ones. Engage only the Demon Lord."

Then, of course all hell broke loose. Fourteen planes were bearing right down on me, but this Belkan was still in front of me. My heart was pounding so hard, it was like a monster was trying to break out of my chest. I didn't dare look back at the shit-storm coming after me.

Keep your eye on the prize.

_You CAN do this, Cipher! _I heard a voice very familiar to me call out from the void. Boss. _What's the first rule?_

"Meet the guns!" I shouted.

_Good!_

I broke of my engagement and reversed straight back into the chasing fur-ball and squeezed the cannon's trigger with all my might, spitting my fury straight at them. I managed to shoot down another of the Berkuts, and scattered the rest of them. I pulled into a 90 degree vertical climb, heading straight for the stars. I could see more tracers flying up past me as I streaked higher and higher, my altimeter counting in delayed numbers with my speed being so high. Fortunately, my ceiling was just higher than the pursuing planes, so as they were starting to be forced back down.

_Now, let them have it!_

I leveled off, saluted the heavens, and then dove back down.

They were scared. They were flying erratically, like a fox that was caught out of the den.

"I've never seen anyone fly like that!"

"He's as good as they all said...as he said," the Osean voice from before spoke to no one in particular. It wasn't until now that I recognized the coloration and insignia on the F-15S's...It was Sorcerer...Palmer was here.

I turned my focus towards the remaining blue Eagles, in particular the one leading the pack that was at my 9 o'clock low.

That has to be him.

"Palmer!" I shouted over the comm., "You're time here is over!"

"What?" he replied in confusion, but it was enough to distract him.

In the time I had called out to him, I had dived right on top of him. His wingmen were trying to get in the way of my missile shot, but his ignorance had made it too easy. My AMRAAM stormed off the pylon, and struck the Eagle right in the center of the fuselage, forcing the fighter into a flat spin. It was not seconds later that Palmer bailed.

"That was for Pixy!" I shouted at the falling pilot, "Rot in hell you scumbag!"

"Lieutenant Colonel! Sorcerer One is down!" a different Osean voice called out.

"I'm aware," the Belkan continued, "The Demon Lord is no schlafmütze. Focus on him, if we defeat him, their attack will fail!"

"Not if we can help it asshole!" Vixen called out, as she rushed past me, the jet wash shaking me a good bit, with PJ following right behind her, they dove after the Berkut's squadron flight lead, peppering him with cannon fire.

I continued my assault with renewed vigor, chasing the demotivated Sorcerers with ease, and bagging the last three was almost too easy. However the two remaining Berkut's were all over Vixen, as she did her best to avoid their missile fire.

"Need a little help here Cipher!"

"Copy."

I put myself in position off to Vixen's 7 o'clock as I slotted in behind the Belkan flight lead.

"I thought you wanted me?" I asked, mocking the Belkan's condescending tone.

"You can't stop us! We will have our way!"

"Not while I'm alive."

I launched a AMRAAM towards him, and he broke off from his engagement, but his turn hadn't been sharp enough, and the missile hit straight into his fuel tanks, lighting the Berkut on fire, and not long after that it imploded, sending the Belkan down to his grave in the only apocalyptic hellhole that matched his psychotic dream. The remaining Berkut halted his attack on Vixen, and just flew in circles over the downed Belkan.

"I never thought I would see the day that Kupchenko would go down...perhaps the Demon Lord was right after all..." the remaining pilot said solemnly, "Best of luck to you, Demon Lord. The fight waits for you in Avalon."

He bailed out seconds later. And as his Berkut slowly declined into the earth, the final Battle of the Round Table was over.

"We did it! WE did it! Three out of three!" I shouted with glee, "I can't believe it, I...that was incredible."

"You flew better than I've ever seen you fly," PJ responded, "Good work."

"That's the first time I've really seen you without fear Cipher," Vixen called, "Perhaps you should've made that phone call earlier."

"It's because I realized that while looking forward can be good, you can't just ignore the present. You have to act now to even get to where you want to be."

As we formed up back above the storm clouds, I looked over to Vixen, who had taken her helmet off for a moment, and waved. She waved back, and then pointed up above us to the empty sky. The sun was shining brightly on the clouds, giving us a little warmth in contrast to dark Round Table below us.

"Let's get to the rally point, everyone. Part one is complete. It's time for part two."

"Copy," Vixen and PJ responded as we accelerated toward Avalon, the final trial of the Demon Lord.

* * *

-December 31, 1995 1435hrs. Mund Valley, Belka-

"30 seconds!" I could barely hear Eagle Eye shout over the bombardment of flak and missiles flying all around us. The Firefox was shaking and rattling all over the place, it felt like I was in a damn blender. Now I knew why they got those other guys for cannon fodder. We wouldn't make it if they didn't take any of the fire.

"15 seconds! Lancer and attackers are go!"

"Roger, good luck out there Boss!" I heard Lancer 1 call from his Tornado as they floored it past us, and immediately the fire around us decreased, but it only grew for them. I watched as several of their planes were hit almost instantly, but they managed to press on.

"Galm Team, go! We've only got one shot."

Our insertion into the combat zone was along the river bed into the Mund Valley, but it was heavily fortified with anti-aircraft weapons and helicopters. We had only one option to get through this. Low and fast. I began my decent into the green valley, locking my engines into just under afterburner range, the altimeter giving a reading for 250 feet off the ground. I shut myself out of the world, taking slow deep breaths as it all the sound just faded away.

I could see the projectiles flying all around me, but it just didn't faze me at all. It felt like I couldn't be touched, honestly. I was just hauling ass right above those idiots. However, I couldn't just focus on the flight anymore. The rebels decided to throw some Harriers in my way, while also sending Flankers down behind us.

"PJ, hit the flares to wave 'em off! Vixen, I need you to watch my back here as I go after these Harriers! Keep your throttles pinned!"

"Roger! Deploying flares!" PJ yelled as I saw the bright flashes rush in every direction in my rear-view mirror, while Vixen pushed the Widow even closer to me.

There was a bridge coming up and two Harriers were hovering right over it, one of each side of the embankments. I locked the right one up with a sidewinder, and as soon as it fired, I turned to the left one and gave it a good two second burst from my cannon. Both of my attacks sent the jump-jets careening widely towards the ground, luckily taking out some of the emplacements below.

"Attackers down to fifty percent strength! Hurry Galm Team!"

Fifty already?! This was an absolute massacre!

"Pedal to the metal guys! There's no time left!"

I pushed up into afterburner range, hitting a sonic boom, and then it got worse. So much worse.

I'm sure in more peaceful conditions the Avalon Dam was a remarkable piece of engineering, but now...

They had turned it into a machine of war.

It had this menacing gun metal grey color, with these bunkers tucked into every nook and cranny. There was just a literal wave of gunfire hitting the attackers. But as soon as we even got close to it, the gunners turned their attention to us, and more specifically me. I was skating just above the water, kicking up considerable backsplash in the river behind me.

"Vixen, Get to the tunnel! I'm only going to have one shot to get in there, you know what to do!"

"I got it, I'm moving there now!"

"How many attackers do we have left, Eagle Eye?" I asked, grimacing at the possible casualties.

"We have thirty-five percent strength on the attackers. You need some back-up, Cipher?"

"Affirmative! I need the AA fire to be weakened from the bunkers at the dam. They're pretty much going after me exclusively, so I'll have one shot to make the tunnel."

"Roger, Lancer 1, you ready?"

"Affirmative! Anything for the Boss!"

"Роджер, Eagle Eye, гадюка is here to help!"

In that instant a group of Tornadoes, Mig-29s, and F-2s came screaming from the heavens at my 11 o'clock giving their payback upon the men that had taken their comrades' lives from them. Their anger was visible, they took about three runs on the damn, effectively knocking out the majority of the batteries within half a minute. Just in time for me to make my run.

"Vixen status on the run!"

Utter silence.

"Vixen! Are you ok?" I shouted in desperation.

No. I can't lose her now. Not here. It just...can't be after all this!

"Affirmative," I heard her heavy breathing over the comm, "Took some nasty knocks in there, still airborne. All of the covers are gone with the help of the trusty bomblet dispenser. You just need to hit the devices."

"Roger," I said with almost a whisper, "Get out of range of the AA, and wait for me."

"I will."

Time to go. I made the small climb over the dam, and the small fragment of a second I saw the ground behind the dam, I was shocked. It was a sea of concrete, not water. There were even more guns and enemy planes all around, and even more towers. But I had no time to think about that. I dove into the tunnel, and slowed down to about half throttle to give me a little more time to effectively engage the targets.

It was darker than I expected as I proceeded to the first device, located in the center of a big square 'room' if you could call it that. Right as I was about to fire, a Super Flanker came charging in from the other tunnel in front of me, sending a missile my way. I accelerated towards the opposite corner of the chamber, away from the missile, and forced myself into a 90 degree climb at very slow speed. I spun the Firefox by giving full left rudder, and as I fell I was in vertical dive, and I gunned it. I lined up with the device in half a second, hitting it with cannon fire, then I let a AMRAAM off on the Super Flanker, quickly turning it into ashes.

"You have three minutes until launch, Galm 1!"

"Roger, one device is down."

I continued into the tunnel that the Super Flanker had come out of, now facing heavy anti-aircraft fire. I flew as close to the floor as I could, with several flak bursts going off right behind me. I entered the second 'room', pulled up for half second and fired my gun at the device, quickly destroying it. I went low once more and heading down the tunnel to the final device. Several radar blips were in this 'room', and were moving very little.

Attack helicopters. Had to make my job harder.

"You have a minute and half until launch! You need to hit the last device now!" Eagle Eye yelled in desperation.

"I'm going!" I snarled back.

I entered the final room and the helicopters were in each of the four corners, waiting to spring their trap. I decided at the last second against going to the device, instead running along the walls, taking out each helicopter with the precious remaining cannon ammunition I had. Once they were dealt with, I faced the device and pulled the trigger on my cannon, praying there was something left.

*Click*.

No.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

NO! NO! NO!

"I'm out of cannon ammo, damn it!" I replied as I banged my fist into the Firefox's console, "I'm done. I lost."

_Really? After all this...you give up? Is this the son that I raised? _

Dad?

_Never give up, Erich! To the final breath, to the final beat of heart, to the last drop of blood, do NOT give up!_

I can't...I don't have anything left to give.

_Don't ever say that to me! You always have something left to give!_

I had a sidewinder, but the chances of that hitting are...

_NOT ZERO!_

"Alright Dad," I mumbled in worry, not hearing everyone screaming at me to destroy the device.

I positioned my nose as close as dead center I could get on the damn thing, and fired my missile away.

Fox 2!

...

...

...

...

BANG!

The missile hit it square on the nose, destroying the final device, and stopping the launch for good. However the structural integrity of this place was becoming more and more awful by the second. I tried to go for the closest escape, but it collapsed as soon as I went that way.

Back the way I came then.

I pushed the Firefox as hard as I could, racing back through falling debris, and other planes high-tailing it to save their own skins. I ignored the danger as I continued my run, finally coming up to the tunnel exit. But I realized a few moments later that the door to the tunnel was closing.

The bastards were trying to trap me in here to die! I won't let that happen!

What are the chances?

_NOT ZERO!_

The closer I got to the exit the smaller the crack seemed, and by the time I stormed through, the crack felt like it was only a few meters to spare. I flew high up into the heavens, a plume of orange-hot explosion right behind me. I pulled off my climb at 20,000 feet to survey the damage. The ground forces at this point had given up their attacks, and it looked like some of our own ground forces had started to take over the field.

"All targets confirmed destroyed," Eagle Eye said with a sigh of relief, "The war...is over."

I searched the skies for Vixen, and she was hovering over the river side of the dam.

"I kept my promise. We stopped them, Vixen."

"I know," she said back, her relief obvious, "Except next time, tell me when you're going to cut it that close again so I don't worry too much."

I chuckled lightly as PJ joined us.

"I can't believe it. It's over."

"I'm right there with you kid," I said as I let out a long breath, unclasping my oxygen mask.

"I can go home, and finally do what I wanted to do all this time. Propose."

Shit!

"Well, I know she'll say yes kid. You're too good to say no to," I said in a warm tone that I hadn't used in a long time.

"Thanks Cipher."

But then, of course. It was never going to be that easy.

"Warning! Laser warm-up detected on scope!"

"WHAT?!" We collectively yelled in shock as we dove for the dirt.

A pink beam darted in the air over us, barely missing my tail as I went and hid my Firefox behind the massive Dam.

Oh my god. I almost...

"Yo...buddy, still alive?"


	23. The Stretch to Infinity

_"__The question of whether world peace will ever be possible can only be answered by someone familiar with world history. To be familiar with world history means, however, to know human beings as they have been and always will be. There is a vast difference, which most people will never comprehend, between viewing future history as it will be and viewing it as one might like it to be. Peace is a desire, war is a fact; and history has never paid heed to human desires and ideals ..." _

_Oswald Spengler_

* * *

Ch. 23 The Stretch to Infinity

-December 31, 1995 1600 hrs. Mund Valley, Avalon, Belka-

Pixy. The Solo Wing pilot. The man I sought for so long was now here, flying above me, raining vengeful fire upon yours truly, and my wingmen. And to make it even worse…

"The V-2 is launching!" Eagle Eye said waking up out of his stupor, "The signal's coming from Solo Wing's craft, you're…going to have to shoot him down."

And just when I thought, you know, shit couldn't get even more, just...shitty, eight more radar signatures were coming up on my screen. Bristow had finally dragged his ass out of the dark, leading his dealers of death with an obviously Gründer provided F-23.

"Protect the King with your lives," the Devil himself spoke, his voice swirling in total darkness, ebbing and flowing through tides of evil, "We will not fail in creating our new world!"

The masses of planes were opposite of each other staring each other down. Vixen, PJ, and myself were on one side, and Pixy, Bristow, and the Wizards on the other. To the ground observers, it might of looked like a battle from hundreds of years ago, bayonets poised for a melee to the death. The fate of Ustio, Belka, Osea, the entire world now rested on my shoulders, the shoulders of my wing mates, and the outcome of this final battle. I could almost see all of the faces of the people I had lost in the wars, Buzzard, Rainman, Lobo, Zero, Andrianov, my father… they were all there smiling at me, they trusted me to finish the job.

And by God, I wasn't going to give it up now!

I instigated the engagement by diving after Pixy in whatever monstrosity he was flying. It was forward swept like a Berkut, but had massive engines that looked to be almost a man's height tall. The fighter's large airframe was decked out in Pixy's usual white with a single red left wingtip. I gave chase, and he engaged his laser again, pushing me off his six o'clock, and I was forced underneath the plane.

"Cipher! We've got some information on the unknown enemy airframe. It's a Gründer prototype, the ADFX-02 Morgan, the thing is built like a smaller version of the Hresvelgr! It's got a computer guided laser, burst-missles, along with a standard fighter armament. We've got no idea on any weaknesses, and the guys are on it right now. Demon Lord, I pray for your success!"

As soon as Pixy's laser was forced into cooldown, I kept up my attack, but he reversed in an instant, and was headed back off towards the smattering of other planes in the fight. In response, I vector-rolled, ended up right behind him, and fired an AMRAAM. It tracked the Morgan beautifully, but for some reason it deflected away from the craft's engines and impacted into the laser system perched on the top, knocking it completely off. The Morgan flew on as if nothing had happened.

I decided to break off Pixy momentarily, who was being unusually silent, I might add, to attack Bristow, who seemed to be unable to shut the hell up.

"You believe in a false prophet, warriors of Galm!" Bristow shouted as he dove after PJ, who honestly wasn't struggling to avoid his attacks. PJ had just gotten too damn good.

"You know Bristow, you sound no different that any other politician I've met," I responded coldly as I lined up on his tail, "Spitting lines that there is promised glory ahead, where there obviously is none."

"Oh, really?" he spat, "What makes you say that, Demon Lord?"

"You believe that there is no single option that is better than this. Just nuking the world to start over, making the world into a wasteland. I remember you being there at Waldreich, Bristow. Don't think that I'm that stupid."

Bristow's Widow pulled out of the dive after PJ and he tried to come up after me, firing his cannon wildly and inaccurately. I barrel-rolled off to the right and just looped back to chase him once more.

"You thought this was rescuing civilization? Rescuing the world? LOOK AROUND YOU!" I screamed in utter frustration. Bristow was seriously struggling to keep himself out of my sights. I sighed. The only reason this guy was a flight lead was because he was a fanatic. A fanatic that stole my best friend from me.

Lost in my deep thoughts, the other three F-23 armed Wizards had locked on to me, and I quickly took some evasive maneuvers, pulling into a tight Split-S, forcing the Widows to overshoot. I put the engines onto red-line max power, and gunned it for the dam, hiding myself from the Widows to allow for me to circle around and meet them head on.

"You're delusional!" PJ shouted at Bristow, "War will only breed more war! You just want to be on top of ladder when it all ends, so you can be the manipulator-in-chief! I think my old friend said it best, 'You let those ideas swim around in your head too long, it's going to get you killed!' "

"Bristow, I've never seen a man so lost within the realities of the world. You can't just do whatever you want," Vixen began as she shot down all FOUR of the squadron's F-16XL's with one fell-swoop, "You'll never live to see your idiotic 'dream' come true."

I floored it back towards the dam right as the three Widows came racing towards me, I launched my three remaining AMRAAMS at them, destroying them all, and sending the traitors' bodies to the deep to be forgotten. I raced up after Bristow with only one sidewinder to finish the job. However, I wasn't alone as a rather surprising plane formed up off my left wing. I couldn't believe it.

"Let's end this, buddy!" Pixy shouted.

It was like he had never left.

"Time to dive into the fireworks!" I shouted with glee as we pounced on Bristow's Widow, Pixy's cannon peppering it with 30mm cannon fire.

"Larry! What the hell are you doing?!" Bristow angrily shouted.

"I should've known from the beginning you were a Gründer tool. Cipher pointed out every, single, obvious sign and I ignored it. After you gave me this plane, that was all the proof that I needed that you were one of them. You used to be my friend Bristow, but now…you're just a robot. A slave just like Kupchenko was, ensnared by the oligarchy that Gründer created, believing that only it will save the world. It's high time that this era in world history finally crashed and burned."

I circled and dove onto Wizard 1, forcing him to climb right into the path of Pixy's fire. The Widow wasn't going to take much more.

"You take the shot, Cipher," Pixy called out to me, "You've earned the right to save the world."

"Glad you're back buddy, and to answer your question, yeah I'm alive. So far."

"I'm glad you're well," Pixy said with a voice laden with happiness. It was just a relief to hear that old voice calling from that radio, one that I never thought I would ever hear again, the memories being all I had left of those good times. Pixy, although it had taken him a long time to figure it out, had finally returned to his old self, right off my wing, ready to take the fight to anyone, no matter the odds.

I dove for a final time as those faces came back to me one more time, cheering me to victory. Cheering me…

I got my lock on the Widow and fired my last missile. The little sidewinder did it's job, smacking itself right into the center of the aircraft, splitting it in half in a massive explosion. Bristow had managed to bail out though. I was Winchester.

"Well, I think I better do this then," Pixy said as I could hear him pressing some buttons in the Morgan's cockpit.

To say that the V-2 exploded was an understatement. The damn sky lit up in a a kaleidiscope of colors, making the whole sky into a beautiful rainbow, and the falling pieces of the missiles made it look like shooting stars. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and the whole crazy ass thing couldn't have gone any better. Pixy was actually back.

"Hey Cipher," Pixy called out again, "You mind coming with me for a few minutes?"

"I guess so," I responded, "What's up?"

"The airfield around here that the whole operation was based out of still has my Eagle there. I want to drop this thing off, blow it up, then fly back in the Eagle."

As crazy as that idea sounded, I had been through so much crazy in the past day that I though that sounded like an absolutely wonderful idea.

"Whatever floats your boat, bro," I replied with a big smile on my face.

"Just make sure no one comes after me, alright?"

"Calm the hell down, Pixy. I got your back."

"Alright, alright," he said defensively as he streaked off to the base on the far side of the concrete sea.

Within minutes he had landed at the base, parking his Morgan haphazardly off the main runway, and he sprinted to his Eagle, dodging what looked like small-arms fire. Oh, they couldn't just let it go!

"Vixen, we've got some little boys playing in the park over here. Can you send 'em to time-out?"

"Affirmative, Cipher, come on PJ! Let's light 'em up!"

I watched from up high as the Falcon and Widow rained havoc on the soldiers below, buying time for Pixy as he took off in his Eagle soaring into the air as the friend I knew from months ago. Once he was ready, he fired a full payload at the Morgan, destroying it in a massive explosion reaching thousands of feet in the air, almost like an oil refinery had exploded.

"And that's what a burst missile looks like," Pixy said glumly, circling around the carcass of his former self, "I hope to God they don't give those to anyone for the next war. That would be utterly tragic."

"No kidding," I responded as we formed up, just like the old days. With the Eagle off of my left wing, Vixen on my right, and PJ in the trail position.

"Eagle Eye!" I called out.

"Listening Cipher," the controller responded.

"I think it's time we went home."

"Affirmative, Galm 1. It's been an honor to work with you all. It's with great pride that for the last time I say, you are clear to RTB Galm. Glad to have you back Galm 2, at least you didn't have to lose a wing today."

"Isn't that the truth! Our little Ace of Aces over here almost pulled it off!"

We all had a good laugh at that as we flew back home, with the world finally at peace.

-2000hrs. Valais AFB, Ustio-

"This is Galm 1, with Galm 2 back with us," I called over the radio as fireworks shot into the air all around the base illuminating the night sky in brilliant shades of color, "Mind if you tell the guys on the ground to hold up for a minute as we come in?"

"Affirmative Galm 1, Galm Team is cleared to land immediately. Glad you're back with us Pixy."

"Thanks for the welcome!" Solo Wing responded with a chuckle.

We all landed in short order, as the whole base rushed out to the planes. As I was still rolling, I popped the canopy open and took off my helmet, shouting and screaming with joy, pumping my fists in the air with utter disbelief. I stopped the plane near the team hangar as Lothar and the crews came over to get us out.

"Well, well, well," Lothar said to me as he climbed up the ladder to me, "Looks like you got your wish Cipher. Congratulations, you did it, you bastard!"

We gave each other a big hug, and he helped me out. The younger trainee pilots all hoisted us onto their shoulders as we went over to the Jet Wash for the party we had all been long waiting for.

Everyone was chanting, "Weltmeister! Weltmeister! Wir sind die besten , sie sind nur Scheiße!"(Champions of the World! Champions of the World! We are the best, they are just shit!)

That night, was a moment I had worked for my whole life, the fulfillment of a dream, the fulfillment of promises long since overdue. We were all back together, joined in a bond of peace. The world saved by my actions, and the actions of my wingmen. Galm had left a mark larger than life itself. Galm would never be forgotten, we would be a legendary voice calling out into the future as long as time continued onward. The barking hounds of war would never be silenced.

* * *

And with that, the Belkan War finally closed. And so, here are the stories of my friends after the war ended.

After the war, Pixy left mercenary work behind him. He devoted himself to ensuring that no conflict in the future escalated to the levels of the Belkan war. Pixy spent countless years on the battlefield working for his own cause, and to find a meaning to his struggle. He sent me postcards almost every month, telling me 'Solo Wing-Still looking. Hope you're well, buddy.' He visited us when there was a lull in global fighting, and we spent many nights reminiscing happily about 'the good ol' days' like all the old geezer fighter pilots before us.

As for Lothar, he managed to snag a promotion at the end of the war for being my mechanic, and for just being an ingenious bastard. After a few years of rest from military work, he returned to duty with Ploesti, working with me to keep the entire company's fleet of aircraft going, and going better than just about any other air force in the world.

Moritz continued to be a faithful companion in the peacetime after the Belkan War, but problems plagued his later years, where he developed arthritis and was severely restricted in his mobility. On May 23, 2007, 12 years to the day after we first crossed paths, the loyal hund died in his sleep from other health-related complications. The hound afterwards was forever immortalized in Ploesti lore, when an award for the year's best young upcoming pilot in Ploesti was named in his honor. His boundless energy and unbridled kindness was the envy of all who ever spent time with Moritz. He was buried in Wielvakia, the land of his fore-...dogs.

Henrik returned to the Edelweiß for only two years after the war's end. He returned to Wielvakia after that, leading a charge in their military to build a more effective special forces unit, which of course, he led himself. He spent the rest of his career there, eventually retiring at the age of 50 from the military at the rank of Lieutenant General.

PJ proposed to Anna the day after we defeated AWWNB at Avalon. Vicki and I attended their wedding in Directus at a very small, private ceremony. PJ subsequently retired from all military work as a result, and they lived happily in November City with their three kids, PJ II, Catherine, and Erich. We visited them every Christmas for a party with everyone from the war who was still alive. Pixy, of course, always managed to make things fun for everyone including the kids.

And lastly, Vixen. Vicki and I got married three years after the war, and had a single son in 2000, Manfred von Falkenberg, of course him being named after my father. I couldn't have picked a better girl to be with. She also continued to be my wingman in Ploesti, watching over my back, and caring for me just as she had from the very beginning.

* * *

-Heinzhöllen, Ustio, January 1, 2015 0400 hrs.-

"And that's it. After the war, I retired from the Ustian Air Force and continued my role as the Skyboss of Ploesti in Usea for another ten years until the Second Continental War. I didn't want the Demon Lord on either side of that conflict, so I pulled the company back here to Heinzhöllen, rebuilt the town, raised my son, and lived my life how I wanted to," I said with a sigh from my chair in the old living room of the Völler house, my eyes tired from the whole night's discussion of my life in the war.

"Well, I came into this expecting a story that Pixy had already told me, but I had no idea that you already had so much history in your family, and before the war yourself, even," a mid-sized brown-haired Osean reporter said, sitting across from me, clucthing his pen and paper.

"It was only a matter of time before you found me," I said with a small smile, "I'm glad you did _Warriors and the Belkan War. _Brett, you did my country a justice that even my own people couldn't do without being incredibly biased for several hours. I'm thankful that there are people out there that are willing show that we're just normal people like them."

"It was my pleasure, Mr…"

"Just call me Erich. You're one of the few people that even know my dilemma, and you're a friend to my people. So you are a friend to me," I said as I got up to shake his hand.

"Thank you for everything, I was not sure you would be so willing to tell me the whole story," Thompson said as I led him to the door.

"As I told that other reporter a long time ago, if you're willing to listen to both sides, you can hear my story. You did that with the documentary. I'm just glad I could make someone else happy," I smirked as I let him out, the door creaking open with its age.

"Goodbye, Erich. I'm glad you were the one that saved us."

"Me too," I replied quietly with a chuckle as the reporter got into his car and drove off.

I walked back into the house, and sat at the kitchen table with my Skyboss work that I had neglected due to the long conversation, but I decided quickly that it could wait until the morning. I opened the back door of the house, put my old black leather flight coat on and walked out into the backyard to my father's grave. But, as it turned out, I wasn't alone, as two shadowy figure were sitting in front of the improved white Lutheran cross sticking out from the Ustian dirt. I knew it could only be one person.

"Manfred!" I whispered and sort of shouted, "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I couldn't sleep dad," he replied honestly, as he stroked his white Belkan hound Niki on his back, "I was thinking about what you told me about Opa, about how he...died."

Manfred was a spitting image of my younger self, fifteen years old, with the bright blonde hair and build, but he had his mother's bright blue eyes. I wasn't particularly happy that he had grown up under the influence of this war culture, but that was the risk that Vicki and I took to bring him into this world.

I sat next to him on the ground in the short, cool grass, staring at the cross inscribed with my father's name on it in black letters. I let out a long sigh.

"Your Opa would be proud to call you his grandson, you know that Manfred?" I said as I shook his hair.

We sat for a few minutes in that starry silence, just drinking in the peace of nature around us. I had craved for a night like this my whole life, just sitting out under the stars without a worry, without a war hanging over my head like a kiloton nuclear warhead.

"Manfred, there's something I want to tell you," I said as I turned my son's face to mine and I looked him straight in the eyes, holding onto his hands, "The most important thing in this world is your mind, your memory. The power to remember, is the greatest thing you'll ever have in this world. Don't forget my story, your mother's story, your grandfather's story, Pixy's story, any of the stories I've told you. Because in the end, no matter what else happens. Human nature will repeat itself. That war in Emmeria…" I trailed off as I stood back up, and Manfred followed suit.

I just shook my head at the stars.

"Is the same as any war that's been fought on this beautiful, green ball that's just floating out in space. Nothing changes here, Manfred. The cycle will repeat. As you've heard from your friends I'm sure, there's already a version of me there, winning that fight."

"Talisman," he said to me, copying my stargazing, "He's the one who's doing what you did."

"Well...even what I did was what my father did, but he did what his grandfather did...Anyways to get back to my point Manfred, just don't forget your old man, ok?"

"I don't think I ever could," my son said with a knowing smile as he gave me a big hug. We walked back inside the house, to finally get some rest before we went to the Krieg Derby game in Dinsmark the upcoming evening. I finally passed down my father's flight jacket to him as I tucked him into bed, and he was so excited that he wore the damn thing to sleep. Standing in the doorway, watching my son quietly rest without any worry of conflict...that was my mission, finally complete.

But, alas, the white Belkan hund did not follow us back inside the old house. After a few minutes, Niki quietly raised himself up and sniffed the gravepost of my grandfather. The hund craned his head up towards the moon and let out a long, mournful howl, his breath pouring from his mouth like a steam engine. After his howl, Niki laid back down, maintaining his lonesome vigil over the lost souls that we will never forget.

* * *

**AN/: And that's that! I decided to just throw the epilogue in this chapter since it felt a little short. I'm glad you've reached the end of Hounds of War, and I'm very proud you've taken the time to read my work and enjoy it. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would finish this grand adventure, or did I imagine I would learn so much from this journey.**

**Anyways, I want to give some thanks to some certain people, as well as cite some very important influences.**

**It goes without saying that I thank Namco and the Project Aces crew for making Ace Combat 4, 5, and Zero, and for changing my life forever. I honestly couldn't imagine my life without not having ever played those games, and it shaped the person I am today. I learned sympathy, loyalty and friendship, and forgiveness from each game respectively. I'll also admit this series contains the only video games I've cried while playing. **

**There are so many influences on my story, but I think the influences of real world aces are honestly the most important.**  
**Aces that I have taken as an influence for the characters in the story(not ranked in any order):  
**

**Johannes Steinhoff, Erich Hartmann, Gerhard Barkhorn, Hans-Joachim Marseille, Werner Molders, Adolf Galland, Robert Standford Tuck, Frank Luke Jr., Robin Olds, Georges Guynemer, Tetsuzō Iwamoto, Saburo Sakai, Manfred von Richthofen, Lothar von Richthofen, Kurt Wolff, Erich Löwenhardt, Oswald Boelcke, and Max Immelmann. **

**Without these pilots, most of the mythos and mystique of the fighter pilot would not exist. So I hope that their souls are resting peacefully, away from the wars that they had to fight. My uttermost respect goes out to every single pilot who flew in every one of the world's wars, and those who fly today. There's no adjective to describe the courage they had and have to go up and fly, knowing they might not ever come back home. My hat's off to them. And just as Erich told his son, don't forget their stories. Don't let them be forgotten with the onward flow of time, these names to most people are just names. To me, they are people who changed the world. Danke schürn.**

**And now some thanks to some people who been really great.**

**Firstly(yes you get your own section) is CyberShockwave. Seriously guys, this man has kept me going in, what has seemed at times, a gigantic struggle. From reviews, to proofing, or just chatting with me through PM's this guy has been there for me the whole way. I'm eternally grateful to him for that. Thanks, buddy. Go kick some ass. **

**Secondly, my other reviewers Wardog 1, laZardo, Cipher11196, smearglemaster, Hy93r1on, and From Ace. You guys are great, and really helped me get motivated to get this done.**

**Wardog 1- '****good story ! interesting the fact of putting squads allied forward in your chapters ! It's been more realistic !and sorry if my english is a bit poor,i'm a french guy!****-Thanks for being my first review, and your english is fine, Merci!**

**laZardo -'****Hi, I'm enjoying what you've written so far, particularly in terms of describing dogfights and supporting squadron development.** **It would be interesting to learn more about this Cipher's globetrotting adventures prior to the war as well as how he'll have to deal with certain fanatics on the other side *coughGrabacr* later on down the line.**** ' - Glad you liked how I took the story! Hope you liked what I did with the Grabacr and Ofnir.**

**CyberShockwave- ****'It's going to be interesting to see how Cipher is going to fly now. I'm also sensing a little sumthin-sumthin going on between Vixen and Erich. Good job at finding a catalyst that changes Cipher's outlook on battle. His whole 'kill, kill, kill' thing was starting to make him a little one dimensional. Can't wait to see what the next chapter holds.'- Man how far I've come from there, huh? Glad you've done SOOO many reviews on this story. Thanks again, buddy.**

**Cipher 11196- 'The cannon has officially been thrown out the window... Or the sky as the case may be. '-Well yeah, I kind of did that on...purpose? Sort of. Whatever. Oh and an actual cannon? THIS IS MAGNIFICENT ACCOMPLISHMENT FOR THE MOTHERLAND! (I KNOW IT'S CANON, TRYING TO JOKE AROUND HERE)**

**'Okay, Logic was blasted out of the sky not so much the cannon.'-Damn I didn't actually blow up the cannon. Oh well.**

**'I personally hated the twelfth mission of the game, it makes sense that Cipher did too.'- TRUTH.**

**'Interesting... Where's Pixy?'-Well, you know now!**

**smearglemaster- 'So far, I really like your story, but I've been looking for the collab you said you had with cybershockwave and I can't find even his half. I was wondering if you could maybe give the link or at least the proper title to search for. Pleeeeease! I'm curious as to who this Dwight and what his story is.'- To make a long story short, it was a little too much for me and Cyber to do at one time while doing this. I'm really disappointed it didn't work out, but it helped us get this stuff done a lot faster. Thank you reading, and I'm glad you liked it!**

**Hy93r1on-'I'm gonna miss this story. It's truly been a ride. Good luck on your next one tho. I can guarantee you I'll be reading it.'- Me too, Hy93r1on. Me too. And I'm glad you're ready to get going on The Man and the Eagle. I am too!**

**From Ace-'Release it either on the 25th or 31st just for effect of a storyline like a christmas present.' Well From Ace, I did the next best thing.**

**Today is St. Lucia day, a rather prominent holiday in Italy where my relatives live. I've celebrated it my whole life with my family, but this year was the first time I couldn't celebrate it at home due to college, so I decided to release this today to celebrate with you all as my St. Lucia day gift. **

**Re-editing and finishing has begun as of 8/1/16. If any reader wishes to have a final copy of the piece once complete, which will have a ****foreword discussing the creation of the story, along with a small personal note to each reader from myself, please PM me so that I can get the info I need to send it to you.**

**So, have a wonderful, wonderful day, and I hope to see you soon.**

**So, for the last time on HoW, I say,**

**Bis Später,**

**Karaya 1**


	24. Epilogue II: Legacy

**AN/: I know, big 'What the Hell?!'. AN at the end.**

* * *

_Ch. 24 Epilogue II: Legacy_

_And I have yet to find one single individual who has attained conspicuous success in bringing down enemy aeroplanes who can be said to be spoiled either by his successes or by the generous congratulations of his comrades. If he were capable of being spoiled he would not have had the character to have won continuous victories, for the smallest amount of vanity is fatal in aeroplane fighting. Self-distrust rather is the quality to which many a pilot owes his protracted existence._

_— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker_

* * *

_My fight changed the world. It's very odd to say that after everything that's happened. I think Pixy would agree with me on that. From the beginning, I was just hoping to live up to a fraction of what my father did in the old war, the war that brought darkness upon Belka. I surpassed legacies even greater than his…doing things I could have never dreamed of._

_But that is the purpose of the sky. It is our endless proving ground. The challenges are limitless and boundless. There are so many ways to be challenged, physically and mentally. The sky is there to push you, but it can be pushed back. That's why I love it so much. Everyone who survives the trials are treated by their own merits, regardless where you started from. You put in the hours, and eventually you'll have something to put yourself on the map with. _

_I miss the combat over the Round Table. It's the most common question I receive among my small group of friends outside flying. It is an indescribable place. The most unique battleground on Earth, perfectly suited for the fighter pilot. It is upon himself to perform to the best of his abilities. It is away from the politics, the propaganda, and the lying. Every pilot there can fight unhindered from the pressure of his country. I believe that's why I'm still friends with many pilots who I have fought there. It was never seen as a part of a war. It was like a game of fußball. You did your work, shook hands, and went home._

_Now, don't take that as glossing over the death. I know, just as well as anyone else, how death is a part of war. It is an unchanging part of the pilot's way. Whether self-inflicted or by another, death eventually comes to us jockeys. The horse will eventually buck us off. We just have to know when it is going to, otherwise…we will pay for it._

_Life will never be the same for me. I am forever scarred by the Belkan War, or Das Erwachen as my countrymen are beginning to call it. The war took many pieces of myself away, while giving some different ones in return. I always ask myself if I could have done more, something to avoid the heart-break and the despair that has followed me since the end of the war. The only answer I seem to receive, more often than not, is that there is no time to look so heavily into the past. One can miss too much anguishing over missed opportunities. I can only help those who are still here, and that is what I intend to do, until the day I am with my fore-fathers again. _

_To my pilots, there are no better airmen than you. You are uniquely equipped to perform your duties better than anyone ever before in flying history. I can only hope you pass on the knowledge you have learned from me and from your own experiences to the next generation of pilots. That is the only way the memory of Galm can survive. You are apart of that story now._

_To my countrymen, I can only be ever more optimistic of your bright futures. Belka has finally began on a great journey to right itself and become the wonderful nation I had always dreamed for it to be. Ustio has only flourished, in no small part thanks to myself, and I pray that they do not make errors similar to Belka's in years past. I pray for all of them, and their future success._

_To my family and all the lives I have touched, I have done the best I could. Given these opportunities and chances, I fought as hard as I could, shed many gallons of blood, sweat, and tears for this family I was fortunate enough to be apart of. There are no words to describe the feelings that I have for you all, and you know who you are, I am indebted to each and every one of you for your advice, friendship, and love. _

_Beyond this lies an uncertain future. At the end of it all, who's to know where I'll be? That's one question that will forever remain unanswered. To everyone, I say farewell. It's been a good ride, and I know when it's up. _

_Tschüss,_

_Cipher_

* * *

-January 2nd, 2025 0200 hrs. Heinzhöllen AFB-

_My last message…better than nothing I suppose._

I rose from my old desk, illuminated by a single, old incandescent-bulbed lamp. It was covered in all the things I needed to keep the old Ploesti machine churning papers, reports, blueprints, you name it. It was strange to finally walk away from all that. The drive I had years ago was gone. I was now 50 years old. The Belkan War was almost 30 years ago, a distant and lost memory of world history. There had been countless wars since then, the only thing still lingering from the Round Table was me. Cipher and Pixy were the last legends still being told as bedtime stories. Best of friends, and best of enemies.

My son Manfred was away on a mission. He became deputy commander three years ago after earning the spot, and after today, he would become the new Skyboss. I had abstained from the annual dogfighting tournament, shocking everyone. I was the first Skyboss to retire from the post and not be killed in action. Manfred didn't shirk from the opportunity. With me gone, several pilots stepped up for a shot at the title, and Manfred won it fair-and-square.

Like my father before me, I knew that it was best to step away and let Manfred do as he wished. He had wanted to follow in my footsteps and keep the family tradition going. He had arguably more talent than myself. He was much more a natural than me, as I had to grind the hours out with Andrianov. Manfred just went up and swatted down fighters with little effort in just a fraction of the time. He was a worthy successor.

I threw my old Galm jacket on as I strayed into the frigid Ustian twilight. There were only a few lights illuminating the tarmac here and there. I didn't look too different from when the war ended. There weren't any hairs to grey, so I had that advantage. Only a few wrinkles appeared here and there. And besides, who's to complain after surviving such a horrific crash like I had.

The old Firefox hadn't changed much either. The metallic grey and blue wingtips, my calling cards were all still there. She was my pride and joy, and became the focus of my work after…the accident.

_Ugh…I promised her I wouldn't do this._

Vixen got in a bad crash about two years ago. Landing gear failure sent her plane into multiple rolls on the ground on touch-down. It was fortunate that the bird hadn't exploded with all the ordinance on it like what happened to me. The ground crews got her out, but the damage had been done. The core of the cockpit had essentially, for the lack of better terms, crushed and skewered her. Multiple puncture wounds and traumas in critical locations. It was gruesome. She held on though, long enough to talk with me for one last time, barely getting the words out. She refused operations, accepting her fate. It was soul-destroying to see her like that, but it was her way. Vixen was independent until the end, and she wanted to go out on her terms. Vixen made me promise her that I wouldn't give up after she left. I did my best to.

I focused on Manfred and training others like Andrianov had with me. Manfred had even taken erh…'steps' to starting his own family. I was very proud of him, but it was his ship now. He needed to take the reigns and without me messing with it.

I prepped the old girl for takeoff, quietly going about my lonesome business with the moon as my only company. Moritz would've been hopping all around me in the old days. Lothar would be giving me crap about something. Buzzard would have telling some stupid joke to Pixy and PJ and the rest of Halo. And Vixen…she would have been standing right there beside me with the warm smile like a setting sun…

I climbed up into the cockpit, and latched myself in. I primed up the engines and taxied off for the runway. I put myself in position at the end and made my call.

"Tower, this is Galm 1. I am transferring command to Löwe 1," I let out a deep sigh, "Requesting permission for final takeoff."

"Roger Galm 1. You are clear to proceed. It's been an honor, Boss."

"The pleasure is all mine. Goodbye and Glück Auf!"

I gunned the engines, shooting up and away into the sky. The old, familiar friend. The sky never left. It was always there, promising tomorrow. I was now taking it to my kingdom. The place only a demon could call home.

* * *

-0641 hrs. Area B7R, Belka-

The skies looked almost the same as it had thirty years ago. The crisp blue sky, the orange and brown scorched earth, some things just never really change.

This is where the mighty Rot, Silber, Schwarz, Sorcerer, and Gault squadrons all met their end. The first defeat of the Grabacr and Ofnir also occurred here. They needed some extra killing to finally be dead. I was even there to see their real end.

B7R is mainly forgotten now. Occasionally, some trophy salvaging goes on, some average schmucks hoping to find some famous pilot's plane hidden away, and they can sell some souvenirs. Beyond that, the land finally rests in total silence. Today is the final time the Demon will grace the skies of the Round Table.

"Yo, buddy. Still alive?" A crackled voice came in over the radio, and an enormous grin grew on my lips, "I was wondering when you were going to get your lazy ass up."

"Pixy, sometimes you just have to be a bit more patient," I sarcastically scolded, as he formed up on my wing with his newer Firefox, which I had pulled some strings for. It still oozed Pixy, the single red wing-tip and the chalk white color. He was looking over towards me giving me the bird. "Oh that's how it is?"

He laughed at that, "I'm too old for that shit Cipher. I think we both are."

"Too right," I replied succinctly. I did one more check on everything then looked back to Pixy, "So, where are we headed?"

"Aw, can't it be a little surprise?" Pixy snarked, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"Cut the crap," I said as I shook my head.

"Alright, alright," Pixy spoke as his voice retreated, "It's a place where even the greatest legends can be ghosts."

"And where the hell is that?"

"There's an island south of the Usean continent. A mutual friend agreed to help us out."

"Butcher finally pulled through?"

"Yup. He's ready for us."

"Alright, let's hit the burners then."

"Lead the way, Cipher," Pixy said with a friendly tone.

"Time to disappear."

The two Firefoxes pulled into a long sweeping turn, finally pointing their noses to the south-east. The afterburners lit, puncturing the air with loud sonic booms. After a minute or two, the skies became quiet once more. B7R was empty. The Round Table's throne was now empty. Would the throne ever be claimed again?

Who knows?

_It would be best if there were no more demons…_

* * *

**AN/: Hallo, und Guten Tag, alle! I know what all of you are thinking. 'Karaya updated something?! Hell has definitely frozen over!' Yeah, you're right. It has. I did this to celebrate the upcoming one year anniversary of completing the story, and I kind of wanted to do something to commemorate that. It's what I have dubbed 'The Legacy Epilogue'. Hounds of War didn't really complete Erich's story completely, and I wanted to really end it on some sort of note. Yeah it's not the happiest thing ever(I know, Cyber. This is what I wanted for the full end), but I wanted a real reason for him to feel a need to give up Ploesti to Manfred. I also apologize for deleting my other story BbPD. It just was undoable after the first chapter and I needed to start over.**

**Speaking of starting over...I have begun writing a new story, basically a re-creation of the Shattered Skies fic I wanted to do 'The Man and the Eagle', I've finished the first chapter and I am moving onto the second, now that school is calming down for a month. I went through some phases, trying different stories with different things, and I never was very happy with any of them. I think I'm best suited for this kind of writing. I'll try to get out something soon, I'm going to really push myself for you guys to get it to you. I'm excited with the vision I have for the universe outside of Cipher, and some stuff above hints to upcoming events I hope to cover in other stories.**

**I can't thank you all enough for your support and continued readership. It means so much to me that you all have read this...it's rather ****indescribable to go back and read it all again. I'm planning to re-write the first three chapters or so, just so they are up to snuff with the rest of story. I'm going to have it done by the end of the year so it's finally all in a presentable manner. I hope to see you all again soon, and thanks again for stopping by. **

_**Auf wiedersehen,**_

_**Karaya 1**_


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